To Date a Metamorph
by Just a Lonely Lorekeeper
Summary: Andromeda Tonks is tired of watching her daughter chase after men she feels are nothing but trouble. When she learns of Nymphadora's interest in Remus Lupin, she decides to try and trick her daughter into pursuing Harry Potter instead. What happens when she actually goes along with her mother's advice, though, is anyone's guess. [some Dumbles bashing, minor Weasley bashing]
1. Chap 1: Mother Knows Best

**Hello everyone, my name is the Lonely Lorekeeper, and welcome to my first fanfiction—or, at least, my first fanfiction in a very long time. I've been a fan of Harry Potter for a long time now, I grew up reading the books and have since grown to now read many fanfictions about the series. This is my first attempt at one such fanfiction, so I hope you all wish me luck, especially considering what exactly I'm trying to do.**

**Now, a lot of you might notice that the premise****—and, especially this first chapter****—feels a lot like another Harry/Tonks fanfiction already on this site. That fanfiction, written by _losthpfanficwriter_, formerly _erbkaiser_, is Nymphadora's Beau, and it's one of my favorite fanfictions on this site. However, from what I've seen of _losthpfanficwriter_, they seem to have abandoned this site, and their stories all lay unfinished. Because of this, I've decided that I would try my hand at writing my favorite of their stories, Nymphadora's Beau, in my own style.**

**I should be clear that I do not have the express permission of _losthpfanficwriter_ to do this. I have attempted to contact them about this, but all attempts thus far have been fruitless. If anyone has any knowledge of how to contact them, please message me so I can try and get their permission to do this. Until then, however, please enjoy Chapter 1 of To Date a Metamorph.**

**[edit: April 2, 2019] I now have express permission from _losthpfanficwriter _to write this story, provided that I give give proper reference to them and the original work.**

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**Chapter 1: Mother Knows Best**

Andromeda Tonks (ne Black) strode confidently and calmly down the shadowy street that was Knockturn Alley. Though most witches and wizards tried to avoid this seedier side of the shopping district, her occupation as a healer and potions mistress demanded she visit, if only for the rare and valuable ingredients she could only find here, from the alley's less-than-savory dealers.

Thankfully, the alley's patrons never tried anything with her. She liked to believe it was because of how she held herself—though she had been banished from the Ancient and Noble House of Black for about twenty-two years, she still looked and acted the part of a member of the powerful and honorable family, and that attitude went a long way towards discouraging unwanted advances. Then again, it could simply be that they remembered her from when she was still a student at Hogwarts—one of the three Black Sisters, a force to be reckoned with—and had no desire to even come close to messing with her, even now, so long after graduation.

And, of course, there was her striking resemblance to her elder sister, Bellatrix Lestrange.

Whatever the reason was, though, Andromeda had a fairly pleasant afternoon. She found the ingredients she needed for her newest pet project with relative ease, she had an almost-friendly chat with some old school friends she hadn't seen in a while, and she'd picked up a new book while perusing one of the alley's less suspicious book stores.

She had just finished picking up the last of the items on her list—a vial of Acromantula venom she was hoping to work into a powerful panacea—and was just about to turn and leave the alley for the more vibrant and welcoming Diagon Alley, when she found herself bumping into one of the Aurors standing guard nearby. The simple bump was enough to cause the red-robed Auror to stumble and fall onto the cobbled street under her feet, landing with a less than graceful 'oomph!'

"Oh, pardon me, are you alright?" Andromeda asked, stepping closer and shifting the shopping bags she held in her arms so that she could reach out a hand to help the hapless Auror back to her feet. As she did, however, she quickly recognized her, and a warm smile spread across her face. "Why, Nymphadora! I didn't know you would be standing watch in Diagon Alley today, I would've come by earlier had I known."

Nymphadora Tonks—known to those outside her family simply as Tonks—quickly leaped back up onto her feet, dusted herself off, and then turned to her mother, her hair turning a pinkish shade of red. "Mum, how many times have I told you not to call me that?"

Andromeda merely shook her head, an amused smile on her face that said she very well knew how many times. "There's nothing wrong with the name Nymphadora, dear, it's a very beautiful and magical name. Honestly, I truly do not understand why you're so bothered by it."

Beside her, Tonks could hear her partner stifling his sniggers. "Not a word, Perkins, or I'll have you stuck walking like an ostrich all the way back to the precinct."

The snickering promptly ended, though Perkins was quick to smile and nod kindly at the elder Tonks woman. "Nice to see you again, Madam Tonks," the older Auror said, before turning and taking a few steps away from the mother and daughter duo. "I'll give you two some space, if you don't mind."

Andromeda nodded thankfully back to the wizard before turning her gaze back to her daughter standing before her. Tonks was dressed in the bright scarlet robes of the Aurors, but beyond the basic robes she lacked the rest of the uniform Perkins proudly wore. Instead, peeking out from under the Auror robes Andromeda could see the punkish apparel she had come to so clearly recognize from her daughter. She wasn't bothered too much by the torn-up jeans and combat boots, but it did make her wonder a bit just how long this 'rebel-punk' phase would last.

Still, she smiled warmly at her daughter as she spoke. "Well, you're looking well, Nymphadora dear. Still taking care of yourself, I hope? It's been a while since your father and I last saw you."

Tonks nodded, giving her mother a noncommittal shrug. "I've been doing alright, just really busy these days, now that I'm a full-time Auror and not just a trainee. It's alright, though most of the time I just get myself stuck with guard duty, so it can be a bit boring. Especially when I have to do the same late for…"

She paused, biting her tongue quickly and glancing around to see if Perkins had caught her slip up. She wasn't supposed to mention Order business in public—they _were_ a secret organization, after all, and most Aurors probably wouldn't take to kindly to an organization set up with the sole intention of fighting a secret shadow war with an enemy that most of the Ministry believed was still dead.

Thankfully, her partner was focused on surveying the contents of a nearby shop's window and hadn't seemed to hear her. Sighing, Tonks turned back to her mother who smiled knowingly back at her.

"Well now, that does sound a bit taxing. Perhaps you could do with a break—why don't you come over tonight for dinner? I know your father would love to talk with you again, and you could even bring your new boyfriend, that Taylor fellow wasn't it?"

Andromeda knew she was playing a dangerous game here. Her daughter had more than a slightly troublesome dating history, and one that she preferred to keep her parents out of for the most part. What she did know was that Tonks had a tendency to chase after what she called 'bad boys', and after Charlie Weasley had decided not long after graduation that he'd rather chase after fiery dragons than excitable metamorphs, she'd started dating around even more. The last one she'd known of was Barrold 'Blue-Jeans' Taylor, one of her fellow Aurors.

"Barry and I aren't together anymore, actually," Tonks quickly replied as she looked away, a response that Andromeda easily picked up on and narrowed her eyes over, "but other than that, sounds great. And, really, mum, please stop calling me_ that name_ in public."

Andromeda's eyes softened as her daughter looked back at her, and she stepped forward to give her a small hug. As she stepped back, however, her eyes sparkled with amusement. "I'm afraid not, my dear Nymphadora, it's a perfectly fine name, and one you really should appreciate more."

Her eyes still shining with unspoken laughter at how annoyed her daughter was becoming—friendly teasing was a time-honored tradition within the Black house, after all—she quickly sidestepped Nymphadora and began walking off. "Well then, dear, I'm afraid I must be off, still quite a few errands to run, I'm afraid. I'll look forward to seeing you this evening around six o'clock, dear!"

And with that, Andromeda Tonks turned and disappeared down the bustling streets of Diagon Alley, leaving her fuming daughter behind.

* * *

"It really is a shame that you and Barrold didn't end up working out, I rather liked him," Ted Tonks, Tonks' father, mentioned idly later that evening. The Tonks family had already finished their supper and, after Ted and Andromeda had finished cleaning the dishes and putting them away, had moved into the living room to chat. This chat, mind you, included subjects Tonks would rather steer her parents away from.

Subjects like her romantic life, for instance.

_You liking him was the exact reason why I went and dumped him in the first place_, Tonks thought to herself, mentally rolling her eyes. It wasn't that she disliked her parents, of course, far from it, in fact. Tonks, however, wanted to pursue danger and excitement, and wanted a partner that could keep up with her. So, any guy that couldn't keep up, or who her parents approved of, she felt would just be settling for something less.

Still, she forced a smile and shrugged back at her father. "Well, it just wasn't working out, Dad, sorry. Barry was just so…well, boring, you know?"

"Barrold, boring?" Andromeda asked, raising an eyebrow as she set her cup of evening tea down. "But Nymphadora dear, wasn't the reason you were attracted to Barrold to begin with was because he rode one of those motoricized bicycles and would go out racing?"

"Motorcycles, Mum," Tonks gently corrected, before sighing and shrugging. "And, yeah, he rides one pretty much everywhere, but other than that he's actually kind of boring—honestly, he reminds me a lot of Dad." As soon as she said that, her hair turned a flustered yellow color and she quickly added, "Not that there's anything wrong with you, of course, Dad!"

Ted Tonks merely chuckled gently in response. "That's quite alright dear. I'll be the first to admit that I live a fairly relaxed life. Well, if you're not dating Barrold, perhaps there's someone else you're interested in nowadays?"

"Well…" Tonks slowly replied, mulling the question over in her head, before she smiled and turned back to look at her father and mother again. "There is one guy I've been thinking about recently. You see, whenever I'm not doing my Auror duties, I've been over helping with the Order. And while I'm there, I've been spending a lot of time with Remus…"

"Remus, as in Lupin?" Andromeda looked and sounded surprised, before her lips turned up into a gentle smile. "It's been a while since I last saw Remus, I remember him when he was just a little Gryffie, hanging out with Sirius and James. He was always the most level-headed of their group, I've heard he grew up into a fine young man, in spite of his…well, problem…"

"Problem?" Tonks asked, her eyes wide with shock.

"Yes, yes, of course, dear," Andromeda nodded, lifting her cup of tea back to her lips before setting it back down again. "All of us prefects were told ahead of time that Remus Lupin was a werewolf, just in case anything happened, of course. It never did, though, Remus was always one of the most respectable students at the school, whenever he wasn't causing trouble with James and Sirius, of course."

"Couldn't put it better myself, love," Ted added with a grin, "Why, I even heard that he was Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher at Hogwarts about two years ago, one of the best they've had in a while, too." He flashed a grin over at his daughter. "I must say, it's a welcome surprise to finally see you deciding to chase after someone with a good deal of stability in his life for once, Dora dear."

Tonks' head was spinning—not literally, of course, but as a metamorph it certainly could've. This was not what she had been expecting when she had planned this conversation out ahead of time. She had thought that they would be outraged or upset that she was choosing to try and pursue someone who was technically a dark creature, never mind the fact that said someone was also nearly twice her age. To have them not only not throw a fuss over it, but actually seem to approve of her pursuing Remus, truly threw her for a loop.

"So, so, so you approve of me and Remus?"

"Of course, dear—he's probably the best choice you've made yet," Andromeda replied with a nod. "In fact, next family dinner, why don't you bring him over? Ted and I would love to chat with him, wouldn't we Ted?"

"Oh, most definitely," Ted nodded, smiling warmly back at his wife.

Tonks shook her head in confusion. This had not gone at all how she'd wanted, and so she quickly stood and came up with an excuse to leave. She needed time to think—if her parents were so keen on her pursuing Remus, then perhaps she should turn her attention elsewhere. There was still Barry's friend Magnus she'd been eyeing for a bit…the larger, gruffer Auror might throw the other Tonkses off their rhythm, and he did seem like a lot of fun…

Just before Tonks could leave, however, she heard her mother call her back.

"Nymphadora, dear, I really am glad that you're finally settling down and out of this…rebellious phase you've been going through. Why, for a while there, I was almost afraid you might do something stupid and try hooking up with that Potter boy."

Tonks froze on the back step and turned to her mother. "Potter…you mean Harry Potter? Why would you ever think I'd try and hook up with him?"

Andromeda shrugged gently, her arms crossed over her chest as she looked back at her daughter. "Well, like you said, you've been spending a lot of time with the Order recently. And, since you've been tasked with watching him over the summer, I was afraid you might decide to try and pursue him. His father was quite the dashing rogue, you know, and he's quickly growing up that same way. But no, I'm glad you've chosen to settle with a more mature, respectable older wizard instead."

"I…see," Tonks replied slowly, the wheels spinning furiously in her head. "So…you'd rather I didn't go out with someone like…someone younger than me, I mean?" She then quickly added, "Just out of curiosity."

"Well a younger man, especially one that's still in Hogwarts would be bad enough, but for it to be someone with such a knack for finding trouble, someone who has been at the center of the secret war since its beginning…" Andromeda Tonks shook her head and shot her daughter a firm stare. "No, definitely not! Harry Potter would be nothing but trouble, Nymphadora Andromeda Tonks, and I swear if I hear that you've tried anything with him, I'll blow the roof of this house to come and snap some sense back into you."

Tonks paused, mulling this over, but before she could reply, Andromeda's stern expression softened and she moved her hand to the door. "Well now, I've said my piece. Now, off you go, and give Remus our love, Nymphadora dear."

And with that, Andromeda swung the back door shut, leaving Tonks to her thoughts.

Tonks stood absolutely still on the back door step for a moment longer before turning and slowly walking down the steps to the backyard patio. Her mind kept turning over her mother's words, both back inside the house when she'd brought up Remus, and what she'd said just now about Harry. It was clear that her dating the werewolf was out of the cards—he was just too likable in her parents' eyes, no it wouldn't do. But Harry, on the other hand… Harry was the Boy-Who-Lived, the center of much of the hysteria coming from the _Daily Prophet_ these days, and even a worse troublemaker than Remus ever was.

A smirk slipped onto Tonks' lips as she made up her mind. _If Mum thinks she can tell me who I can and can't date, she's got another thing coming…she's right, of course, Harry's been growing up a lot, and if I can get a few shifts in a row to myself, maybe I can see for myself just how much he's grown…_

She chuckled to herself at the thought, her breasts expanding a few sizes as her metamorphic powers reacted to her subconscious desires. Smirking, she placed her hands over her straining shirt, the plan slowly working away in her mind. _Yes, this will work…Harry Potter, by the time I'm done with you, you will be mine!_

With that, Nymphadora Tonks spun on her heel and disapparated out of the Tonks' backyard with a sharp _crack_.

* * *

Back inside the house, Ted and Andromeda Tonks watched their daughter through the blinds hanging over the window. They watched her silently stand in the backyard for several minutes, before finally disapparating. As soon as she disappeared, Ted sighed deeply and moved to wrap his arm around his wife's waist and pull her close against him.

"Think she bought it, love?" he asked, glancing back at her.

"I certainly hope so, Ted," she replied, her head bowing as she felt the beginning of a migraine coming on. "Honestly, though, Remus Lupin, of all people? I know she's chased after troublemakers, but he's by far one of the worst! Ever since Lily and James' deaths, he's been nothing but a coward and a slacker. If she actually did end up with him, I wouldn't be surprised if he ended up running out on her, not to mention if he managed to knock her up, too!"

The former daughter of the house of Black sighed deeply and shook her head again. "I seriously have no idea what goes on in that daughter of mine's head. No, Harry will be a much better choice. From what I've heard of him, he's mature and honest and kind—he may just be exactly what our daughter needs to stay grounded for once in her life."

Ted Tonks just chuckled softly in response, nodding silently at his wife's assessment. Grinning silently to himself, he found his eyes drift back to the spot his daughter had been standing in a moment earlier, replaying her actions as the two of them had seen them from their hidden spot within the kitchen. Finally, the two of them stepped away from the window, with Ted sharing one last thought on the matter.

"That poor boy has no idea what he's in for."


	2. Chap 2: Constant Vigilance

**Hello everyone, once again! This is the Lonely Lorekeeper, here once again with a new chapter of To Date a Metamorph. Now, I know, this is surprisingly fast—trust me, do not get used to this, I am absolutely horrid at keeping an update schedule, and usually just update whenever I've finished a new chapter and, after reading through it, feel that it is a good chapter. That being said, Chapter 2 is done, and I have it here and ready for all of y'all to enjoy.**

**On top of that, though, I also have some exciting news. Earlier today, I got a message from _losthpfanficwriter_, after finally being able to get a message through to them. They've given me the go ahead to use Nymphadora's Beau as an inspiration for To Date a Metamorph, and even to build off of some of their chapters while I'm still here in the beginning phases, provided I give proper reference to the original. Which I have done, now, both on this chapter, the first chapter, and will continue to do in pretty much every one of these headers. So, we are good!**

**Anyways, that is enough from me, I've said enough! So, without further ado, please enjoy Chapter 2 of To Date a Metamorph.**

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**Chapter 2: Constant Vigilance**

The next day, Nymphadora Tonks arrived early outside of the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix. She needed to find out when she would be next on the Harry Watch—and who else was also on the list, so that she could try and convince them into letting her take their shifts. Even more than that, though, she wanted to get a better idea of who her target was, which meant getting there early to talk with some of those who knew Harry best. As an Auror, she'd learned well to always be prepared when going into a new situation.

To put it in her favorite mentor's way: CONSTANT VIGILANCE!

As such, on that bright and warm summer morning, Tonks strode up to the front step of Number 12 Grimmauld Place, both her and the stately manor home hidden from view thanks to the Fidelus Charm that surrounded the building. She didn't bother to knock or ring the doorbell—you only had to make that mistake once to realize to never ever do that again—and instead simply swung the door open and strode inside.

"Wotcher all, how're your mornings go—!" Tonks began, announcing to the residents of the manor home as she strode in, only to be cut off as she found herself stumbling and tripping over the rather ugly troll leg umbrella stand. She'd even gone out of her way to walk to the left side of the entranceway, trying to step around the ugly thing.

It did her no good, of course, as it was now somehow standing right in her way, and against her better wishes she found herself stumbling and coming to a crashing fall in the middle of the hallway. The effect was immediate, as the nearby portrait of her dear(ly departed) Aunt Walburga snapped into action, the dark curtains covering her flying open, her wailing and gnashing voice filling the whole house with her vile and hateful screams.

"Filth! Blood traitors! Half-Blood scum! To have the House of Black be so defiled by your very presence is an outrage! Out, out of my house, now! Kreacher! Kreacher, throw these scum out of my house this instant!"

"Oh bollocks," Tonks groused quietly.

As the metamorphmagus pushed herself back up onto her feet, the pounding of heavy footfalls drew closer, only slightly muffled by the shrieking banshee of a portrait. From around the corner of the hallway, Tonks could just barely hear her cousin Sirius Black shout out, "What the bloody hell—who's the devil that decided to go and wake her up?"

"That'd be me, Sirius," Tonks replied awkwardly, giving her older cousin a slightly embarrassed wave.

Upon seeing his younger cousin, Sirius' mask of fury was quickly swept away and replaced with a kind—albeit slightly annoyed—smile. "Oh, Nymmie! Good to see you again—aside from, of course, waking the old hag up again. Go on in, I'll shut my mother up for you."

"Shut me up? Why, I'd like to see you try, you worthless brat of an heir! You traitorous bastard!"

With that, Sirius turned and began trading verbal blows once more with his mother, shouting out a storm of obscenities that quickly filled the entrance hall as he tried to quiet her down. Tonks paused a moment to shoot a glare at her cousin for using _that name_, even in shortened form, and turned to give the troll leg a swift kick before walking inside. She wasn't certain the piece of furniture was sentient, but in such a place as Grimmauld Place, it was better to be safe than sorry.

Not that it helped any, if her track record was anything to go by.

Beyond the entrance hall, Tonks found herself in the large and formerly-lavish sitting room of Grimmauld Place. The past decade and a half of abandonment and decay had paid its toll here, as well as in most of the other rooms. Still, after more than a little hard work from the Weasleys—who had also taken up temporary residence here—the ground floor was mostly livable once more. She was sure they'd possibly missed one or two skeletons in the closets, but at the moment it was nice enough for the Order members to feel comfortable resting there.

As such, it came as little surprise to Tonks that as she walked into the living room she found Remus Lupin sitting in one of the large armchairs nearby the fireplace, a large and weighty tome in his arms that he read quietly. Feeling she should be polite, the metamorphmagus walked over and waved to try and get Remus' attention.

"Wotcher, Remus, whatcha reading there?"

Remus looked up and smiled gently back at Tonks, lowering his book into his lap. "Oh, it's a new documentary that a friend of mine sent me to read over before she gets it published—she's a journalist, and this is one of her latest writings. It's an interesting read…if you're interested, you can read it after me."

Tonks stared critically back at Remus as she listened to him, though she tried to remain aloof about it. She hadn't noticed it before she'd spoken with her parents, but they were right—he was very respectable, much too quiet and relaxed to be what she was hoping for in a partner. Added to his attitude was the way he was sitting in that arm chair, that book in his hands—hell, even his suit, though a bit old and threadbare in spots—it all reminded her far too much of her father.

_Well, thank you Mum for opening my eyes to that_, Tonks mentally muttered to herself, quickly tossing Remus into the 'friend-zone only' pile, along with several of her past boyfriends. Aloud, though, she merely smiled and shook her head. "Thanks, but I think I'm good. Enjoy your book, though."

Remus nodded and lifted the book back up from his lap and returned to his reading. As he did, Tonks turned and began walking towards the kitchen where the 'Harry Watch' list was posted. "What brings you here, anyways? Don't you have work before your shift at Privet Drive today?"

"I got some time off," Tonks replied, calling back to him over her shoulder. "Since Fudge is trying to pretend Moldywarts hasn't returned, he's been hemming Auror duties left and right. There's little more to do for us these days other than stand around and talk, and I already do plenty of that here. So, I figured I could do with a break and help out some more."

"Oh, you needn't do that, Nymphadora dearie!"

Tonks grimaced and turned to find Molly Weasley—the matriarch of the Weasley family and the only other person she knew of that was more mothering to her than her own mother—standing nearby in the kitchen, working over the stove making lunch. The plump, red-haired woman quickly began bustling her way over to Tonks, dusting her hands off on her apron.

"You are always so busy with your duties here and with the Aurors, no need to come here and busy yourself some more! You're a young woman, you should be out enjoying your life, meeting some nice men—nicer men than you have in the past, at least—not bothering yourself with more work! Leave that to the adults, Tonks sweetie."

Tonks' hair turned bright red as she struggled to keep from shouting the Weasley mother out—and, of course, once more awakening the wrath of Aunt Walburga's portrait. "For the last time, Mrs. Weasley, don't call me _Nymphadora_! Just call me Tonks, honestly! And anyways, I'm not your child, am I? I'm not a child at all, I'm twenty-one!"

"No need to use that tone with me, dearie," Molly Weasley replied, turning away with a huff, before quickly turning and marching over to harp on Remus over the glass he was drinking from. Apparently, he wasn't using a coaster, and she didn't want the water from the glass to ruin _her_ table. Tonks just frowned and turned back to the roster, her hair slowly bleeding back into a bright pink as she tried to release her anger.

The nerve of that woman.

Sighing to herself, Tonks decided to leave the conflict behind her as she turned her attention back to the roster. The Harry Watch roster was a simple sheet of pale parchment that had been hung on the wall between the kitchen and the dining room. Charmed by Dumbledore himself, the parchment updated its contents to reflect another parchment the elder wizard kept on hand. As it was, the new schedule was up, covering the next few days of the week.

_Week of July 10th to July 16th_

_Monday, July 10th_

_Midnight to 8am—Sturgis P._

_8am to 4pm—Kingsley S._

_4pm to Midnight—Nymphadora T._

_Tuesday, July 11th_

_Midnight to 8am—Mungdungus F._

_8am to 4pm—Remus L._

_4pm to Midnight—Arthur W._

_Wednesday, July 12th_

_…_

Tonks scanned over the list of names and times for a moment before her face split into a knowing smirk. At the moment, it was eleven in the morning, so Kingsley was already over at Privet Drive watching Harry, but right after him she would have her turn to watch over Harry. After her was Mungdungus Fletcher, a rather grubby wizard who was more than a little bit lazy. No doubt he'd be more than willing to give her his shift, giving her an extra eight hours.

She wanted a full day with Harry, though, to really get the balls rolling on this relationship she hoped to pursue. Still smirking to herself, Tonks turned back to the living room and walked out, passing Molly Weasley on the way. Apparently she was done berating Remus about his drink and was back to cooking as usual.

"Hey, Remus, do you mind if I take your shift tomorrow?"

Remus was back to reading his book from his friend again, though he lowered it a bit so he could look over at Tonks. "You mean with the Harry Watch?" he asked, a look of surprise and no small part confusion spreading across his face. "No, I don't mind, so long as you don't mind me asking why you're interested?"

"Well, I've got nothing better going on," Tonks simply lied with a shrug. Behind her, she could hear Molly huff and mutter something about kids these days. She ignored her. "Keeping an eye on the boy wonder should help stave off some of the boredom, and anyways I did say I came here to help."

Remus nodded, his face relaxing into a tired smile. "Well then, by all means, go right ahead. I could definitely use the break, myself—it's a full moon starting Wednesday, and I'm going to need all the sleep I can get." As he said that, he seemed to slump a bit more in his armchair, and Tonks noticed that he did seem a bit more haggard than normal.

"Great!" Tonks beamed in return. "Well then, enjoy your book and get your rest!"

With that, Tonks made to turn and disappear into the rest of the manor—she still needed to find some of Harry's friends that were staying at Grimmauld, after all, so that she knew a bit more about her target before she tried pursuing him. Before she could go anywhere, though, she noticed her cousin finally come trudging back from the entrance hall. It seemed that Aunt Walburga had a lot to talk about this time, if the length of her tirade and the slumping of Sirius' shoulders were anything to go by.

As soon as he saw his cousin, however, the mangy Black heir perked up and came trotting over to her and Remus. "Well, now, NymphieeEYOWW!"

Tonks shot her cousin a glare as she twirled her wand back into its holster up her sleeve, the stinging hex she'd thrown his way silencing him for a moment. "Call me Nymphadora again, Sirius, and I'll be sure to aim a little lower and _a little harder_ next time."

Sirius chuckled awkwardly at the threat. "Message received."

Tonks nodded smartly back at him, though her lips turned up into a smirk after a moment. She couldn't stay mad at him—after all, he was her mother's favorite cousin, and her favorite uncle-cousin. It had been a real shock for them when he'd turned up at the Tonks's about a year ago, clinging to the back of the enormous hippogriff that now resided in a bedroom on the second floor. But after a good washing and a few good meals, Sirius Black was looking better than ever, and he'd even regained a bit of that bright fire she'd remembered so fondly burning in his eyes.

Smirking back at her, Sirius clapped his hands and looked between her and Remus. "So, now that my dear aunt is finally shut up once more, what did I miss?"

Remus was the first to speak, though this time he didn't look up from his book. "Tonks volunteered to take my shift tomorrow and I got reprimanded by Molly for not using a drink coaster on the 'valuable antique furniture'." The werewolf rolled his eyes and reached over to take another pass at his drink before setting it back down on the coaster the Weasley matriarch had provided him.

Sirius snorted in reply—it was no secret that he and Molly tended to butt heads, and he was glad to hear he wasn't the only one. Still, he turned to Tonks and raised an eyebrow, a gleam in his eyes. "So, you'll be spending a bit more time around the pup, eh?"

The way he asked that made a shiver run down Tonks' spine. "Uh, yeah, that's right," she nodded.

Sirius nodded back at her, then glanced around the room surreptitiously. Aside from Remus sitting literally about a meter away, there wasn't anyone else in the living room to watch them. Even Molly, after checking on the food she was cooking on the stove, had bustled off deeper into the manor, likely to do more cleaning. When he felt sure that they were alone and unbothered, Sirius then reached into his robes and pulled out a few letters, each still sealed.

"Could you give these to him, then, if you get the chance?"

Tonks blinked owlishly back at him. This was not at all what she had been expecting from her cousin. Perhaps some stern talking to about needing to get a life—and possibly get laid, knowing Sirius—or maybe a joke about her spending too much time with a younger man that would hit the nail a little too close to the head for comfort. This, though, threw her for a loop. "Um…why?"

Sirius sighed, running a hand through his shaggy jet black locks. "Dumbledore's been trying to keep Harry out of the loop here with the Order, which means that a lot of the mail that gets sent Harry's way, he tries to keep it censored. I haven't been able to write Harry, at least not as well as I'd prefer. So, if you could sneak these to him while you're there, I'd really appreciate it."

Her gaze softened—of course Sirius would be worried for Harry like that, he was his godfather after all, and he wanted to know his godson was doing alright. Tonks nodded, taking the letters back from Sirius and quickly slipping them away inside her robes. "You got it, Sirius. I'll see what I can do."

Tonks then paused and glanced up towards the stairs for a moment. "By the way, before I head off, I was thinking of talking to some of the kids, see if they know anything I should be aware of while keeping an eye on Harry. They upstairs?"

Sirius nodded, moving to join Remus in one of the large armchairs, dropping with a low sigh. "Yeah, they're up there. The twins are messing around with some of their supplies in their room, I think, I wouldn't suggest checking in on them. And the two younger Weasleys are in one of the other bedrooms up there too, I think. Oh, and Hermione is over in the library."

"The library?" the screech of Molly Weasley called out, as she had just so happened to be passing through to check on her dishes once more. Instead, the red-headed woman quickly bustled over to Sirius, her face a mask of fury. "Sirius, I can't believe you'd actually let her go off on her own in there! She's a child, and that library is no place for a child like her! I swear…"

Before Molly could get too far along in her tirade, Tonks took the moment to slip away and make her way upstairs.

True to Sirius' words, Tonks found the two youngest Weasley children holed up in one of the bedrooms on the second floor. There were only a few that were fully cleaned up and ready for those staying at Grimmauld place to stay in, the others still in the same level of decay and darkness that they had been in for the past fifteen years. In Ron and Ginny's case, though, they were in what Ron had come to claim as 'his' room, a fairly small but nice room at the end of the hall with a window overlooking the street below.

At the moment she found them, the two Weasley children were sitting around lazily, a board for wizard's chess set up between them, though neither was really paying too much attention to it. Instead, Ron was enjoying what looked to be a fairly hefty roast beef sandwich, while his sister Ginny was flipping idly through a copy of Witch Weekly.

"Wotcher, Ron, Ginny," the metamorph called out as she entered the room. "You two doing alright?"

"At the moment," Ron replied between bites of his sandwich. He reached over and moved one of his knights on the board, taking one of Ginny's bishops.

"We're trying to avoid our mum, mostly," Ginny replied, looking back up from her magazine to stare at the chess board. She shot her brother an only-slightly-annoyed scowl, before looking back up at Tonks. "She's been running us ragged, trying to get this whole place cleaned up. It's a nightmare. Anyways, what's up?"

Tonks plopped down on the other bed in the room opposite them and swung her legs around so that she was sitting cross-legged. "Well, I'm going to be going on Harry Watch in a few hours, and I was wondering if the two of you could sort of tell me what the boy's like so I can keep a better eye on him."

"Didn't Dumbledore say you lot weren't supposed to talk to Harry while keeping an eye on him?" Ron asked, taking another bite of his sandwich as Ginny moved one of her rooks across the board to take a pawn.

Tonks just waved his question away. "Yeah, but I'm not planning to actually talk to him," she casually lied, "I just want to get a better idea of what he's like. You know, so I can keep a better eye on him, see if anything unusual is going on."

Her explanation seemed to make sense to the two Weasley children, and they noticeably turned their attention to her, Ginny putting down her magazine and Ron looking away from the chess board. "Well, I don't really see why you want that, but alright," Ron replied with a shrug, setting his sandwich down for a moment. "I mean, he doesn't really talk a whole lot about his life outside of school. Doesn't really sound like he does much."

The metamorph frowned a bit at that answer. This was Harry Potter's best mate? "What do you mean, he doesn't do much? What _has_ he told you?"

Ron shrugged lamely, while Ginny just sighed softly. "Well, we've never really pressed him on it. His relatives aren't all that nice to him, so he doesn't talk a lot about it, and it seems kind of rude to try and ask about it."

"Well, what's he like at school, then?" Tonks asked—there had to be something good she could get from these two, from all the time they spent around Harry.

Unfortunately, the response only disappointed her more.

"Well, he's on the Quidditch team for Gryffindor," Ron replied, beaming at the thought of his friend, or probably at the chance to gush about his favorite sport. "He's the seeker, and probably the best in all of Britain. He's a wicked flier, some of the things I've seen him done are absolutely insane, I'm surprised he hasn't hurt himself more during the games!"

"He has hurt himself, though, Ron," Ginny lightly reminded, though she also looked just as dazzled. Turning back to Tonks, though, she simply shrugged. "Other than that, he mostly just hangs out with Ron and plays chess."

"Just…hangs out?" Tonks asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Well, yeah, what else is he gonna do outside of Quidditch?" Ron asked with a shrug. "I mean, sometimes we go to the library, but that's just because of Hermione, and it's just so boring. We're not even taking any classes that need that much studying anyways."

"What about girls?" Tonks asked, hoping to get something useful from them. "What sort of girls is he interested in?"

At this, Ginny Weasley turned a bit pink in the face, and puffed up a bit. "Actually, Harry's not that interested in most girls," she replied tersely. "If anything, though, he's interested in girls that can play Quidditch—he was really taken by Cho Chang, the Ravenclaw Seeker, last year, and I'd bet he'd fancy another Quidditch girl, too, if she was more attractive to him."

"No need to try and be subtle about it, Ginny," Ron replied with a roll of the eyes, "we all know you're talking about yourself."

Ginny blushed brightly before glaring back at her brother and cuffing him on the side of the head lightly. "Prat!"

Tonks sighed—she could tell she wasn't going to get much else out of them. It was rather disappointing, actually. From what she'd heard, Ron was Harry's first friend his age, and pretty much everyone at Grimmauld knew how much Ginny Weasley was crushing on the dark and broody Boy-Who-Lived. She'd hoped that, with them that close to him, she would've gotten more information.

Deciding she'd had enough, Tonks hopped up from the bed and made her way to the door. "Well, thanks for the help. This has been really helpful, really."

The two nodded and turned back to their game, and with a frustrated sigh, Tonks turned and walked out before they could say anything else. Out in the hall, she quickly made her way down towards the Black family library. Perhaps Ron and Ginny hadn't been able to offer up much in the form of useful advice, but maybe Harry's _other_ best friend, Hermione, would be able to tell her what she needed to know.

She found the bushy-haired bookworm a little way into the library, nestled into a seat at one of the large tables, several large tomes surrounding her while she read out of another. Tonks glanced over the titles that she could see out of curiosity—though a few of them were family histories, the larger portion of Hermione's piles were dedicated to defensive magics.

Stepping closer, Tonks pulled one of the chairs out from the table and slid in across from Hermione. "Wotcher, Hermione, what are you up to?"

Hermione looked up from the tome she was reading for a moment before looking back down at it. "Oh, just doing some light reading. I've been interested in the books here at Grimmauld Place, I was wondering if they had anything interesting or unique in the forms of combating the Dark Arts. After all, the Blacks were a fairly dark family, at least that's what Sirius and their own family histories suggest, so I figured they must have better resources for handling them."

Hermione said all of that fairly quickly as she read through the passages before her, quickly flipping the page once she was done. Tonks stared in surprise, before cracking a smile. "Well, I'm glad one of you has a good head on straight going into this war, then," she commented with a chuckle.

Nodding, Hermione continued staring into her book. "Well, someone has to, and with Harry being at the center of it all…well, I just want to be sure that I can help keep him safe, too."

"I know what you mean," Tonks nodded, seeing her chance to try and casually broach the subject, "Actually, speaking of keeping Harry safe, I'm gonna be taking my shift of the Harry Watch here in a few hours, and I was wondering if there was anything you could tell me about him."

Hermione pause mid-page-flip, and slowly looked back up at Tonks with a puzzled expression. "How do you mean?"

"Well, I just want to try and get to know him better, that's all," Tonks replied with a shrug, trying to act nonchalant about it. "I figure that if I can know him better, I might be able to keep a closer eye on him and tell if something's wrong. You understand, right Hermione?"

Hermione frowned, pursing her lips slightly as she thought. "I believe I do…though, you should be careful about it. Remember, Dumbledore has forbidden us from talking to Harry. He told us that Harry still needs time to grieve. If he finds out about this, you could be in trouble."

Another sour frown spread across Tonks' face as she heard Hermione's words. Leave Harry alone to grieve? When had that ever worked out? "Hermione, can I ask…do you actually believe that?"

The bushy-haired bookworm sighed, taking a moment to glance around the library a moment. It reminded Tonks rather strikingly of Sirius from back in the living room, though with all of the bookshelves surrounding them, it was more than a little difficult to tell they were truly alone. Finally, after a moment of silence, Hermione turned back to Tonks and quietly shook her head.

"Not really…but I can't exactly argue against Dumbledore, can I? For a while, at the start of the summer, I tried writing Harry often, but Dumbledore told me I had to tone it down, that Harry wouldn't like being badgered with letters." She then sighed and gave the metamorph a small shrug. "Besides, even if it's not to help with his grieving, Dumbledore _is_ the leader of the light, so...he must have a good reason still, right?"

"You would think so," Tonks replied, liking the sound of this less and less. Sighing, she shook her head and returned to her previous train of thought. "Anyways, supposing that I would be allowed to talk to Harry, what's he like? I tried getting an answer out of the younger Weasleys, but they didn't have much to say."

To Tonks' surprise, Hermione only nodded smartly back. "Not surprised, honestly," Hermione replied, "Ginny really only tends to see Harry as 'the Boy-Who-Lived', this larger-than-life hero. And Ron…well…" Hermione sighed. "Ron's always been a bit more simple. Don't get me wrong, he's a good friend in a pinch, but he can be more than a bit self-interested."

"So what's he like to you?" Nymphadora asked, filing this information away for later.

Hermione paused a moment to think, before a small smile slipped onto her face. "Well…Ginny's not wrong in thinking he's a hero. From the past four years at Hogwarts, Harry has done some amazing things in order to save the day. But the thing about that is that he's also so humble about it. He never brags about what he's done, what he's accomplished. He doesn't act like he's special, just that he was doing what needed to be done, what anyone else would've done."

Tonks smiled, already more pleased with the information coming from Hermione than Ron or Ginny. Hermione, however, wasn't done, as she soon continued.

"I think, most important about Harry that anyone trying to get to know him is that he doesn't like being thought of as 'the Boy-Who-Lived'. He hates how famous he is over something he doesn't even remember, something that resulted in the deaths of his mum and dad. He just wants to be known as Harry, as himself. That's probably why he loves Quidditch so much. Up there, he's not Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, but just Harry Potter, the Gryffindor Seeker."

"I see," Tonks replied, slowly nodding, "So, anyone who would want to know Harry should actually want to know him?"

"And treat him right, too," Hermione nodded. "Harry might not talk a lot about it, but he was hurt a lot from living with his aunt and uncle. He still bears scars from when he was younger, some physical and some not, and those scars make it hard for him to open up to others. It's also why you should never turn your back on him—he may forgive, but he'll never forget. That's something Ron's yet to figure out. He may be friends with Harry again, but they're not back to how they used to be."

Tonks nodded slowly, taking in all that Hermione had said. It was clear that, for as much the bookworm buried herself in her books, she was one of the more observant and perceptive members of their friend circle. She'd given her a lot to think about and prepare for over the next few hours.

Smiling, Tonks stood from the library table and nodded back at Hermione. "Thanks, Hermione, that really helps. Well, I won't bother you anymore—enjoy your books!" With that, Tonks turned and began to walk back out of the library, a new, small spring in her step. Before she got far, however, she heard Hermione call out to her.

"Say hello to him for me, would you?"

Tonks paused, and glanced back at Hermione. The bookworm was already back in her books, acting as though she hadn't said anything, but Tonks nodded, a small smile slipping onto her face. "If I get the chance to," she replied. And at that moment they both knew she had no intentions of not finding the chance to, if the smile that flitted briefly onto Hermione's face was anything to go by.

Smiling to herself, Tonks turned once more and bounded out of the library once more, before heading out of Grimmauld Place entirely. She needed to head back to her apartment and start getting ready for her three shifts over at Privet Drive, and needed all the time she could get to get ready.

She had a hero to woo, after all.


	3. Chap 3: First Impressions

**Y'know, I said before that you shouldn't get used to me posting new chapters frequently, but I may come to eat my own words...**

**Anyways, hello everyone once again! It is I, the Lonely Lorekeeper, and I have another chapter of To Date a Metamorph ready for all of you today. This will probably be my last one of the week—I have a few projects for school I still need to work on, so I'll be spending the rest of this week and the weekend getting all of that done. If I get it all done before the weekend is over, though, who knows? Maybe I'll have Chapter 4 ready sooner rather than later.**

**Before I go, though, I'd just really like to thank all of you for how amazing this first week back to fanfictioneering has been. I was seriously nervous picking this up****—my history with fanfiction hasn't been the most positive, but your reviews and messages have been so uplifting and empowering. Again, I doubt I'll be able to keep this ridiculous streak up for much longer****—essentially a chapter a day. It's a fool's errand...but I can promise that as long as people love this story, I'm gonna try to keep moving forward.**

**Also, once again, I have to thank _losthpfanficwriter_ for giving me the permission to work off of his incredible story Nymphadora's Beau. If y'all haven't somehow read this fanfiction yet, it's incredible, definitely one of my favorite stories on this site, hands down, and I'm so glad that _losthpfanficwriter_ gave me permission to write my own take on their story.**

**With that said, please enjoy Chapter 3 of To Date a Metamorph.**

* * *

**Chapter 3: First Impressions**

At a quarter to four, Nymphadora Tonks apparated to a spot behind several large hedges in Arabella Figg's front yard. The order had set this spot up as a predetermined apparation point—as it was close to Harry, hidden from view, and on property that was already well aware and fully supportive of the Order's mission—and the ground had a worn and almost swirl-shaped patch from Order members constantly apparating to and from Privet Drive.

Of course, the grooves in the ground were enough to make the landing a bit more unsteady than most. So, after untangling herself from the shrubbery and dusting leaves and a bit of dirt from her crash landing off of her robes, Tonks popped out from behind the hedges and began making her way over to the Dursleys' house.

Even after having been on the Harry Watch for a few weeks already, Tonks had to remind herself of the house's number, just so that she didn't get confused. Each house was so disturbingly similar, all with the same bland paint scheme and meticulously managed front lawns, which were looking a bit more yellowed in the hot July sun. It all just felt so expressionless, so boring. And Tonks, walking down the street in her ripped jeans, combat boots, and faded rock and roll t-shirt, couldn't help feeling very out of place here.

And she thought her parents' place could be boring.

When she finally arrived out front of Number 4 Privet Drive, Tonks paused to casually lean up against a nearby tree. "Real nice day we're having today, aren't we?" she asked to seemingly no one.

"You're not the one who's been standing around in the sun for the past eight hours," came a deep, rolling voice from just over her shoulder. Tonks felt an odd, spine-tingling feeling run down her back, like an egg being cracked right over her head, and knew that Kingsley had cast the Notice-Me-Not charm over the both of them so that, during the passing of the guard, they weren't noticed by any nearby muggles.

Kingsley then spoke up again, and Tonks didn't need to see him to know that he had his wand trained on her. "What's the password?"

"Rise from the ashes," Tonks replied, remembering back to the phrase that had been listed on the same paper as the Harry Watch roster.

There was a faint rustling sound from behind her, like water splashing against stone, and in an instant, the large and imposing frame of Kingsley Shacklebolt appeared under the tree beside her. The dark-skinned Auror furrowed his brow and crossed his arms at the sight of her, and Tonks noticed that in one of his hands he was holding an invisibility cloak, likely the source of the rustling, waterfall noise from earlier.

"You're early," Kingsley stated, a bit of surprise in his tone.

Tonks rolled her eyes and looked away from him, her eyes landing on the house before her. "Would you rather I not be? Anyways, anything I should know about before I take over?"

Kingsley chuckled softly, a sound like distant rumbling thunder, and shook his head. "No, not really. The place has been quiet pretty much all day. The Dursleys are out of town, they left yesterday during Hestia's shift, off to visit Vernon's sister, apparently."

Tonks suddenly stood up straight, pushing off of the tree and swiftly turning to face Kingsley. "Wait, so Harry's not even here?"

"No, he's here," Kingsley calmly replied, holding out a hand to calm the punkish metamorph down, the tips of whose hair was starting to turn more than a little red. With his other hand, he withdrew his wand and pointed it towards the Dursleys' house. A simple flick of the wrist and a murmured '_Homenum Revelio_', and a moment later the two of them saw a faint red light appear outside one of the windows.

Tonks settled down at that, her hair turning back to its soft and bubbly pink shade. She was almost worried for a moment there—all this work she'd put in, and she'd almost had to wait another few days to even put it into effect. And on top of that, she would've been running a three-shift watch, all for nothing.

Sighing, she turned back to Kingsley. "Alright, good. Wouldn't want to be wasting my time here, after all."

Kingsley nodded, passing her the invisibility cloak he was still holding in his arms. "Nor would I. So, Tonks, you set? You shouldn't have much trouble—like I said, I haven't seen the boy much today."

"No, I'm pretty sure I've got this," Tonks replied, throwing the cloak over her shoulders and disappearing even from Kingsley's point of view. "Thanks anyways, Shack. You can head on back—I'm sure the missus is missing you a whole lot right about now."

"Ha! You mean the kneazle," Kingsley replied with a bellowing laugh, calming himself as he brought down the Notice-Me-Not charm and began walking off. "Take care, Tonks, see you in a few."

Tonks hung back by that tree a moment longer, watching and waiting for Kingsley to reach the apparation point. Once she saw him disappear behind the hedges, the metamorph swept the invisibility cloak up off her shoulders again and stuffed it into her moleskin pouch. Then, glancing around the quiet street once more, she walked up to the house's front door and—one quick unlocking charm later—walked inside.

If she thought the outside of the house was boring, then the interior of the Dursleys' home was absolutely unnerving. Everything was completely spotless—and not in a good way, but in a way that bordered on obsessiveness, if it hadn't already backflipped off the cliff's edge by now. The pictures that were hung on the wall were all perfectly straight and even with each other, each showing the family in various different moments in time. Harry, she noted, was missing in all of these pictures. If she hadn't already known he lived here, she wouldn't have any clue he did.

Tonks frowned and turned away from the living room, heading up the stairs. She remembered what Hermione had told her about Harry's upbringing—how he had been treated poorly by the Dursleys, and how he still bore scars from that poor excuse of a childhood. The living room was a good example of that, and she wondered what else she might find out during her visit.

The answer, as it turned out, was awaiting her at the top of the stairs and at the end of the hall. There, far enough away from the stairs that it wasn't immediately noticeable, was the door that Tonks was fairly certain connected to the room Kingsley's spell had indicated Harry being in. The door, however, brought her up short, and she couldn't help staring. There were numerous locks of varying kinds on the outside of the door, and close to the floor, a cat-flap had been installed. It looked less like a bedroom door, and more like one she'd expect from a prison.

"What the bloody hell…?" Tonks murmured quietly, her fists slowly beginning to clench and her hair turning a shocking fiery red color again. There was a lot to unpack here, and she wasn't certain she wanted to see how much further it went.

Sighing, Tonks took a moment to steady her breathing and unclench her fists. The signs of neglect and possible abuse were absolutely terrible, but she could deal with them later, after she'd finally met her target. Taking another deep breath, Tonks sighed once more as her hair faded back to its usual color, and her breasts expanded a bit, just enough that she was giving a very enticing view down her low-cut neckline.

Feeling satisfied with her appearance, the metamorph turned back to Harry's door and knocked politely on the surface. "Harry?" she called out. "Mind if I come in?"

The response she got, however, was not what she'd been expecting.

A lot of things happened in the next few seconds very quickly—so quickly, in fact, that it took Tonks a moment to sort it all out. First, the door to Harry's room slammed open, swinging out and nearly smacking Tonks in the face. She quickly side-stepped out of the way, but was immediately bowled over by someone throwing their shoulder into her hard and fast. The next thing she knew, Tonks was laying on her back in the hallway, pinned down by a young Harry Potter straddling her chest, his wand pointed down at her face.

At that moment, Tonks got her first good look at Harry Potter since she first joined up with the Order and began keeping tabs on him over the summer. The first thing that came to her mind was that her mother was definitely right—Harry was _very_ dashing. The young man staring down at her had a thin, handsome face, his jaw set and angled. His hair, wild and windswept, fell around his face in a not-unattractive mess, the dark locks perfectly framing his face. And his eyes, those brilliant emerald eyes, seemed almost to gleam and glow from behind his glasses.

The sight sent an involuntary shiver down her spine, and her breasts expanded again on pure instinct.

And then Tonks realized that it wasn't just his eyes that were glowing, but also the tip of his wand, which was still pointed firmly at her head. Recalling the slightly precarious position she was in, Tonks licked her lips nervously and gave Harry a weak wave. "W-wotcher, Harry…I, uh…I'm from the Order."

This, however, did not seem to calm him much. "What Order?" he asked firmly, his eyes blazing as he adjusted the grip on his wand. "Who sent you here—how did you even get in here?"

"I'm with the Order of the Phoenix!" Tonks squeaked out. Logically, she knew that she could easily throw Harry off of her, draw her wand, and turn this whole situation back over on him. At the moment, though, with him towering over her like he was, he looked too intimidating—and too attractive, if she were being honest—for her to do much of anything. She quickly added, almost as an afterthought, "Dumbledore sent me!"

That got his attention.

"You're with Dumbledore?" he asked, and his posture eased up. He sat up and pulled away from her, lowering his wand from her face. His eyes, though, remained narrowed and focused. "Really?"

"Yeah, I swear! I'm on your side, I'm a friend. I'd even be willing to swear a magical vow that I come in peace, honest!" Her words helped to calm herself down, and she could see in his expression that, at the very least, he was listening. Getting an idea in her head, she smiled and morphed her facial features so that she had large, sad, cat-like eyes looking up at him. "Besides, you wouldn't hurt little old me, would you?"

Harry spluttered in surprise, and he backed up even more. "What the—?" he exclaimed, only to be met by Tonks' playful, bubbling laughter.

"Sorry, sorry, I couldn't help myself," she said between laughs. After taking a bit to calm down, the metamorph looked back up at Harry and shot him a grin. "Seriously, though, I'm only here to help."

"Well…alright then," Harry finally relented, "I mean, you haven't tried to attack me yet, which is usually a good sign. Who are you, by the way, and how did you do…that?" He gestured simply at her face, an action that only caused Tonks to laugh in reply.

"Well, I'd be more than happy to explain the how of what I just did there, just as soon as you stop squishing my tits," Tonks replied in a dry tone, only now realizing how much her metamorphic abilities had sort of gone wild while being pinned down by the younger man. Her breasts had expanded to comical proportions, something she was quick to remedy as she shrank them down to a smaller—but no less enticing—size.

Harry, meanwhile, also seemed to immediately recognize the implications of their positioning, and leaped back off of her. "Oh, sorry, I wasn't thinking," he quickly sputtered out. Sheepishly, he extended a hand towards her to pull her back to her feet.

"Hey, it's no problem—after all, I actually enjoy that, though usually I try to wait until we get _inside_ the bedroom before letting blokes get around to it," Tonks replied, winking back at him and stifling a laugh at his sheepish and rapidly reddening expression.

"O-oh…okay, then…" Harry replied, dropping his gaze away from her in clear embarrassment. "So, um…who are you, again? You said you're with Dumbledore, right?"

Tonks smirked at Harry's reaction and nodded. "Right you are, Harry—the name's Tonks, and just Tonks, mind, and I'm part of the Order of the Phoenix, a group Dumbledore's whipped up to help handle the return of the Great Noseless One, since pretty much everyone high up in the Ministry is ignoring the truth."

Harry looked back up at Tonks, his face brightening. "Wait, so…you believe me, then? About him being back?"

Tonks nodded, biting her lip a bit at the shocked and raw emotion in Harry's eyes. It was clear to her that the thought of someone else actually believing him was something he'd either never thought about, or had given up on until just now. "Yes, I do—we all do." She paused, and a small smirk slipped onto her face. "And I'd be happy to tell you more about that…though maybe, after you get fully dressed first."

Her eyes drifted downwards, and Harry followed the path of her gaze, only to immediately yelp in surprise. In his hurry to react to the possible home invasion, Harry had forgotten his state of dress he'd been in back in his room. As it was so unbearably hot these days, he had only been wearing a pair of oversized briefs, the waistband of which had been pulled tight and tied so they didn't fall off of him.

Blushing with embarrassment once more, Harry quickly turned and bolted into his bedroom, slamming the door behind him. "S-sorry!" he shouted through the door. "I wasn't exactly expecting company when you showed up! Just give me a minute, alright?"

"Oh no worries," Tonks replied, calling right back. She then smirked to herself, a rather devious thought slipping into her mind. And, ever quick to act on her impulses, she cast a silent spell that made the door semi-transparent on her side, so that she got a good view into Harry's room. "Take all the time you need…"

Inside the room, she found more evidence to Hermione's claims about Harry's upbringing, as well as another point to add to her growing list of reasons to lightly murder the Dursleys when the Order wasn't looking. While the rest of the house was immaculately clean and composed, the inside of Harry's room was a den of dust and rubbish. It looked as though the room doubled as storage for whatever the Dursleys' boy broke, with a busted up bicycle, a smashed TV set, and a crumpled computer standing out the most to her at the moment. She couldn't see the rest of the furniture in the room from here, but she assumed it was in a similar shabby state.

Sighing, Tonks merely filed her findings away to the back of her mind and turned her attention back to her target. She licked her lips once more as she got a good look at his lean and Quidditch-toned figure. While he was a bit more on the shorter and skinnier side still, it was clear that he worked hard, as she could see hard and firm muscles moving over his chest and in his arms as he moved about, cleaning his room up a bit and grabbing a change of clothes.

Tonks' eyes drifted downward, and she bit her lip. Seemed as though his muscles weren't the only parts of him that were hard and firm…

_Mmm, very nice, and not bad for his age, either_, Tonks thought to herself, watching eagerly as she saw Harry strip out of the boxers and pull a new pair on. _Tonksie, you hit the jackpot big time_.

It was as Harry turned around, though, that Tonks was dragged out of her lustful thoughts by an image that made her stomach flip, and not in a good way. There, clear as day, were well around a dozen long white markings that crisscrossed his back. Most were long and thin, and curved at the ends, but a few looked rough and ragged, as though the skin had been torn in the past.

_Oh Harry…what have you been through…?_

Harry, meanwhile, was trying to work through the odd situation he found himself in. It wasn't every day, after all, that a strange and beguiling older woman suddenly showed up outside his bedroom and flirted with him. Usually, whenever strange women showed up outside his bedroom, it was only to tell him to come downstairs to cook dinner, or wailing about one of his fellow 'freaks' showing up unexpectedly and driving her insane. So, yes, this was very odd, and Harry didn't really know what to make of it.

There was also the fact that this woman—Tonks, as she'd asked to be referred by—claimed to be there on Dumbledore's orders. He hadn't heard much from the headmaster since summer had started, but what little mail he had received had mostly mentioned how he shouldn't linger far from the Dursleys. None of it had mentioned this secret organization Tonks had mentioned, nor had it mentioned him sending one of the Order's members over to check up on him. It was all more than a little suspicious.

Of course, she'd also said that she believed him about Voldemort having come back, and she seemed genuine about it, too. Which was saying something, because according to what little he could find in the news that Hedwig brought him, the Wizarding World as a whole was essentially calling him a lunatic over the whole situation. To openly side with him on the matter would likely only be met with ridicule and disgrace, something that too many in the Wizarding World apparently feared more than a literal Dark Lord.

So, either she was telling the truth about being part of this secret order…or she believed him because she was for the other side.

Harry sighed, pulling on one of Dudley's oversized t-shirts and glancing over at Hedwig's empty cage. He wished she were here to talk to. He always seemed to be able to think his thoughts through a bit more clearly when his familiar was near. That, and the owl wasn't afraid to make her opinion known, usually by way of a bite from her beak or a cuffing to the back of his head from her wing.

Unfortunately for him, though, he'd just sent her out for a bit of exercise and hunting. Knowing Hedwig, she wouldn't be back for another half-hour or so. So, Harry was left to his own skills in perception and insight to decide his best course of action.

Brilliant.

As Harry began to approach the door again, Tonks quickly cancelled the spell she'd cast and shifted her metamorphic abilities to hide the blush she was certain was spread clear across her face at her personal peep show. Another wicked thought dashed across her mind as he began to open the door, and so she expanded her breast size again and leaned forward to arch her back in a stretch.

The effect was immediate, as Harry took barely a step out of the bedroom and froze, his eyes going wide. "Whoa…" he mumbled softly, unintentionally. Tonks, however, heard it, and her lips twisted up into a self-satisfied smirk as she relaxed down from the stretch and smirked back at Harry.

"Hey again, Harry, good to see you're finally dressed," she lightly teased, giving him a quick once over. She didn't know what to think about the outrageously oversized t-shirt and jeans. Tonks supposed she could just assume it was a fashion statement of some kind, but after what she'd seen so far, she wasn't certain it was of his own volition.

Harry flushed in embarrassment and nodded back to Tonks. "Uh, right…so, you said you wanted to talk to me about this…Order?"

Tonks nodded. "Of course—though, we should probably sit down for this, I have a feeling this might be a bit of a discussion. Mind if we head into your room?" She paused to flash Harry a grin and added, "Or, we could head down to the couch in the living room, I'm flexible either way."

She winked, and held back a laugh as she saw Harry's face light up with a bright red blush. "N-no, the bedroom's fine!" he replied hastily, stepping back and holding the door wide open for Tonks to walk through.

"My, such a gentleman," Tonks lightly teased, winking again at Harry before walking through.

As she'd seen earlier, the bedroom was a mess of ruined objects left and right. She hadn't had a clear picture before—the spell only made the bedroom door _semi_-transparent, after all—but now that she was in the room she was certain that the amount of rubbish that had been left in here by the Dursleys was absolutely appalling. At the other end of the room, she could see Harry's bed, though she used the term loosely, as it was barely more than a box spring on a frame with a stained and worn mattress on top.

Harry shuffled awkwardly beside her. "I know, it's a mess. The Dursleys don't really care either way, so I just sort of leave it as is. Sorry if it's a bit of an eyesore."

"Oh no, it's fine, Harry," Tonks replied, smiling calmly back at him, before turning her attention back to the room. "Although, you're right about one thing. This room truly is an eyesore, not to mention just a shoddy mess of things." Smirking, she looked back at Harry and drew her wand. "How about I switch things up a bit?"

To Tonks' surprise, though, Harry's face turned ashen pale, and his expression changed into one of frantic worry for a moment. "No, you can't!" he blurted out. "You can't use magic here, I'll get expelled!"

Nymphadora blinked, then slowly lowered her wand, cocking an eyebrow upwards as she turned back to face Harry again. "What do you mean, you'll get expelled? I'd be the one doing the magic."

"I know, I know," Harry replied, looking more than a bit ruffled over it, "but for some reason, whenever anyone uses magic in this house—and I do mean anyone, Tonks—I'm always the one that gets blamed for it. A few years back, even, there was this house elf that popped in and tried to make me not be able to go to Hogwarts, and he made one of my aunt's cakes float over and land on one of her guests, and I got a letter saying that it had been me, and that I had used up one of my warnings!"

The frown on Tonks' face grew as Harry spoke, and after a moment she shook her head firmly. "That's not how the trace is supposed to work, though," she muttered, looking back up at Harry, "It's not supposed to read all of the magic in the area that everyone uses—if it were like that, people would be getting warning letters left and right. And it certainly shouldn't be picking up when a house elf was the one using magic!"

"I'm just saying what I know!" Harry quickly replied back, throwing his arms into the air.

"I know, I know," Tonks replied, unintentionally mimicking Harry from just a moment earlier, "I'm just trying to figure this out. Now, normally the trace is placed on your wand—each wand at Ollivander's has a trace imbedded in it, and once you form a bond with that wand, the trace activates as long as you're under seventeen years old. That's how it normally works, at least."

Tonks frowned, thinking quietly to herself, before looking up and snapping her fingers. "I've got it! It was the house elf!" Looking back at Harry, she smiled. "If the house elf was trying to make you get that warning letter, then he likely messed with your wand's trace so it was temporarily bonded to him."

Harry frowned as he thought over what Tonks said. In a way, it did make sense. The only warning letter he'd received _had_ been from Dobby making the cake float, and compared to the other things he'd done since reentering the Wizarding World, it was surprising he hadn't received more. Hell, there had been the whole debacle with Aunt Marge back during the summer before his third year—something that had required Aurors come to actually repair the house, deflate his aunt, and Oblivate anyone who had witnessed it—and yet he was still a free wizard.

Well…as free as one gets when you were Harry Potter.

"I guess that makes sense," Harry finally replied, looking back up at Tonks with a small frown. "Still, I don't think you should chance it. And really, I've been living in this room for the past few years, I really don't mind the mess too much."

"Well I do," Tonks replied, tossing her hair over her shoulder as she looked over the ruined furniture and random rubbish surrounding the room. "Honestly, you shouldn't have to live among trash like this to begin with. Just trust me on this, Harry—let me help you."

Harry looked up at Tonks, and the pink-haired woman was staring at him with genuine softness and kindness in her eyes. It was a look and an emotion that Harry wasn't all that used to receiving from someone else, least of all the beautiful mysterious woman that had suddenly and inexplicably shown up in his life just a few minutes ago.

Finally, after a moment of silent deliberation, Harry nodded and gestured to the shabby room they were in. "Go ahead, knock yourself out," he replied.

Nymphadora Tonks smirked back at him and winked. "No thanks, I'll leave that job to you, if you'd like."

Before Harry could make another spluttering reply, Tonks walked forward until she was standing in what she felt was the center of the bedroom. She glanced around slowly, taking stock of everything she could see, the wand in her hand slowly spinning and dancing between her fingers as she thought. Then, after what seemed like ages of silence, Tonks turned and pointed her wand over at one of the larger piles of rubbish that had been filling a nearby corner.

In a flash of bright light, the pile was completely gone, banished to someplace else that Tonks would worry more about later. She saw Harry wince when the spell had been cast, but after a moment he seemed to relax, and he nodded back to her.

Flashing Harry a smile in return, Tonks turned to the rest of the bedroom and began slinging banishing and cleaning spells as though she were in a duel with a living bedroom. Piles of trash and Dudley's broken toys and gifts from past birthdays all disappeared from the room, one after another. The walls and floors were cleaned, and the floorboards almost seemed to have a new coat of wax on them, making them gleam in a way that Harry had never seen before in his room.

Feeling satisfied with the work she'd done with the trash and the filth, Tonks then turned her attention to the bed. She paused to think over what exactly she wanted to do, before smirking and spinning the wand in her hand in a quick flourish. In a flash of light, the rusty and musty bed was gone, replaced by an immaculate queen-sized four-poster, similar in design to the ones that filled the dorms back at Hogwarts, but larger and with even softer blankets and sheets.

It was a very nice piece of work, if she did say so herself.

When she finished fixing up the desk and the desk chair sitting off in another corner of the room, the metamorphmagus finally sighed and plopped down onto the bed, bouncing for a moment as she caught her breath. "Alright, maybe I almost _did_ knock myself over that," she muttered, shooting Harry a sheepish smile.

Harry stared around his bedroom in shock—never before had it looked this nice, probably not since before the Dursleys had Dudley, at least. He turned back to Tonks and shook his head, his face splitting into a grin. "That was wicked!"

Tonks blushed and smiled, shrugging nonchalantly back at Harry. "Well, what can I say? I'm a bit of a natural when it comes to these sorts of things." Grinning, she hopped off of the bed and took a step towards him. "And hey, look. Someone used magic, and you didn't get blamed for it! See, told you there was nothing t—"

_SCREEEKK!_

Tonks and Harry both jumped at the high-pitched shriek that suddenly cut through them as a large horned owl suddenly flew through the open window. It flew in a circle over both their heads for a second before it finally released the letter that it had been holding in its talons. It let out another sharp, piercing shriek again and then dove out the window, disappearing back out into Privet Drive once more.

Harry and Tonks watched the owl fly off, before turning to stare at the letter it had left behind. It was a glossy purple envelope, the shade of which Tonks was intimately familiar with already. As if the shade wasn't hint enough, the abnormally large wax seal with a stylistic "M" stamped on it certainly gave it away.

Beside her, Tonks heard Harry swallow hard.

Slowly, Tonks reached down and picked up the envelope. She glanced over at Harry—already, the dark-haired boy's smiling face had returned to that ashen, worried look that she'd seen on him when she'd first suggested magicking away his mess. She bit her lip, then turned and opened the envelope. The parchment inside was pure white, and in a crisp and cold typewriter font was written the following message:

_Dear Mr. Potter,_

_We have received intelligence that you performed, in sequence, three banishment charms, five cleaning charms, one feat of advanced transfiguration, and two mid-level repair charms at twenty minutes past four this day in a Muggle-inhabited area._

_This is a breach of the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery as per Section 13 of the International Confederation of Warlocks' Statute of Secrecy. As this is your second official warning, your presence is required at a disciplinary hearing at the Ministry of Magic at 9 a.m. on the fourteenth of July._

_Hoping you are well,_

_Yours sincerely,_

_Mafalda Hopkirk_

_Improper Use of Magic Office_

_Ministry of Magic_

Tonks stared at the sheet of paper for a minute longer, blinking in surprise. Then, sighing deeply, she turned and handed the letter over to Harry for him to read, while she vocalized all of her thoughts into one simple, one-hundred percent sincere comment.

"Oh bollocks."


	4. Chap 4: One Step At a Time

**Alright! The weekend is over, homework is done with, and the new chapter is up!**

**Hey everybody, it's me, the Lonely Lorekeeper, here again with another new chapter of To Date a Metamorph. Sorry again for taking a few days to get this done with, I had a bunch of big assignments and projects that came due over this weekend, and I—the procrastinating fool that I am****—had forgotten to do anything about them, so I had to quickly cram my way through. So far, it's looking pretty good, though, so I had time to get this chapter out to y'all.**

**While I have you here, though, can I say how happy I am at how well this has been received? I mean, this chapter is coming out exactly one week after the first chapter was published, and in that time this story has picked up 207 followers, been favorited 391 times, and been picked up by 3 different communities. And I know, a lot of this has to do with _losthpfanficwriter_ paving the way ahead with his incredible story Nymphadora's Beau, but...it still feels really nice to pop on every day or so and suddenly see a bunch more people have decided to stick around, or see a bunch of new reviews telling me what they like or dislike about my retelling.**

**Anyways, that's enough gushing from me, let's get to the story!**

* * *

**Chapter 4: One Step at a Time**

"I knew this was going happen, I just knew it!"

Harry paced nervously back and forth in the center of his newly cleaned and refurbished room. His hands tousled and dragged through his wild locks as he tried to calm himself down but to no avail. He was going to court because of improper use of magic, and the Minister was going to have him expelled and his wand snapped. It didn't matter what he said or did—the whole of the Ministry was against him, so even if he did tell the truth that Tonks had been the one to cast the spells, it wouldn't make any difference. He was doomed.

Tonks, meanwhile, was sitting quietly on the edge of Harry's bed, staring at the missive in her hands once more. Her mind was spinning, gears inside her head whirring, as she tried to make sense of this. Harry shouldn't have received this reprimand from the Ministry. That much was obvious, of course, and would certainly need to be addressed, too. But the fact that he had received the missive so quickly was odd as well.

While Tonks hadn't actually worked as part of the Improper Use of Magic branch of the DMLE, she did know a fair bit about it thanks to her training. One of the first and most obvious facts about the IUM was that it took hours for reports to work through the system before being sent to their respective litigants. It needed to go through the proper channels, due process, and was otherwise slowed due to general laziness, of which she knew first hand that the IUM was overflowing with.

So, for Harry to have not only received this letter, but for him to have received it so quickly after the improper usage—whether or not it was his mistake to begin with—more than slightly roused her suspicions.

She sat silently on the bed for a moment longer before looking back up at the manically pacing Harry. Sighing, Tonks stood up and quickly walked over, snatching one of his hands with her own. Harry came to a stumbling stop, the hand that had been ruffling his hair slowly dropping back to his side as he turned and looked back over at Tonks with nervous, wary eyes.

"Harry, I know this looks bad, but it's going to be okay," Tonks stated calmly. "I was sent here to keep you safe, and that includes any attempts from the Minister to screw you over. We'll work this out, but I need you to calm down first."

Tonks watched as the nervous, fearful look that had filled Harry's eyes began to fade. It was still there, lingering in the backs of his emerald orbs, but for the moment her words and her reaching out to him had managed to calm the young man before her. After another moment of silence, Harry nodded slowly back at Tonks. "Thank you," he managed to say, keeping his head bowed low.

"Don't mention it, Harry," Tonks nodded. Progress is progress after all. "Now, why don't you come join me on your bed, and we can work this out together, alright?"

Harry didn't answer, but then again Tonks didn't really give him the chance to. Still holding his hand gently in her own, Tonks led Harry back to the bed where she sat down on the side and pulled Harry along to join her. The teenager stumbled a bit and nearly fell onto her—something that actually stirred a bit of excitement in her chest—but he managed to catch himself at the last moment, and instead ended up sitting nervously beside the attractive witch.

Tonks pouted subtly about the missed opportunity, but simply sighed and turned her attention back to the matter at hand. "Now, Harry, while I'm currently helping Dumbledore out with his Order, my real job is as an Auror for the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. I'm essentially the wizard version of a police officer, got it?"

Harry nodded, before frowning and raising an eyebrow. "Does…this mean that _you're_ gonna be the one taking me to court, then, Tonks?"

"What? No!" Tonks quickly replied back, shaking her head. "No, I'm not going to bring you in, Harry. If anything, I can stand as a witness for you, since I can fully confirm that it was my spells that triggered your trace, not yours. And that's only if this actually goes to court to begin with."

Harry perked up a bit at that, and both his eyebrows rose to his hairline. "If? But, Tonks, it says on my letter, right there, that I'm already scheduled for a court session on the fourteenth."

Harry jabbed a finger at the letter for emphasis, but Tonks merely shook her head. "Yeah, _it_ says that. But _I_—being a well-trained and rather clever Auror, if I do say so myself—say otherwise."

Tonks took a moment to gather her thoughts before moving forward. "First of all, this whole situation stinks, and not just because your trace went off because of a spell you didn't cast. I know how the Ministry works, how long it takes for things like misuse of magic felonies to make their way through the system. Usually, it takes you a few hours to get the official missive from the IUM, and a few weeks before you have to attend court to either defend your case or pay the fee."

Looking back at Harry, Tonks frowned. "You, however, received your missive within five minutes of me spiffing up your room, and your court date is in four days. Which, I don't think I have to spell it out for you, feels really odd. Knowing you, and knowing what the Ministry has been saying about you in the Prophet, the Minister's probably been keeping his supporters aware of any mistakes you make, and pushed this through quickly so you would be out of the way."

"Wait, you really think he'd do that?" Harry asked, sitting up straight in surprise.

He was nearly knocked back by the flat, deadpan stare Tonks leveled at him. "Harry, you've met the Minister—does he really seem like the type that wouldn't leap to such inane methods to keep you quiet, and Magical Britain at ease?"

Harry blinked, then thought back to all of the past interactions he'd had with the illustrious Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge. Just a month ago, he had firmly denied Harry's claim that Voldemort had been resurrected, claimed that Harry was being delusional, and then had one of the witnesses and a major form of evidence—Barty Crouch Jr.—Dementored. The year before that, he had also ignored Harry's claims about Sirius Black being innocent, believing Snape's claims that Harry had been confounded.

And of course, how could he forget the time he and Ron had accidentally listened in on Lucius Malfoy and the Minister coming to Hagrid's hut to have him arrested. There had been no due process, no warrant or form of legal authority to have him taken away. Yet Hagrid had been taken, sentenced to Azkaban, and Dumbledore had been removed from the office of Headmaster. And the reasoning Fudge had given for his actions still echoed through Harry's mind.

"_The Ministry must be seen doing something_."

Harry finally looked back up at Tonks and shook his head. "You're right…he'd do it…but then, what can we do about it?"

Tonks smirked. "Well, if he is trying to stack the deck against you and give you a firm and quick court session to silence you, that could easily be seen as a misuse of power by the Minister. If I can plead your case to my boss, Madam Bones of the DMLE, then we can probably push to hold off your court session for the usual wait time of a few weeks, giving you the time you need to gather your defense."

Her smirk widened, and she turned to flash a wink at her young cohort. "And that's only if they're able to get it to court to begin with. Again, I can go and plead your case to Madam Bones. That means also bringing up how your Trace picked up on my spellcasting. On top of that, the spells used were all housework-style spells, in a home that was empty of all muggles—magically aware or not—so there was no danger of breaking the statute. Add to that your story of the house elf tricking your Trace the first time, and Bonesy might just drop the charges right there!"

The shocked smile on Harry's face filled Tonks with a warmth, and she couldn't help smiling back. "Really? You think so?"

"Couldn't hurt to ask," Tonks replied with a playful shrug, before shooting Harry a slightly more serious frown. "If anything, it'd only hurt to keep quiet and let the Minister do what he wants. If we can get this to Bonesy and get her on our side, we can nip this in the bud and maybe teach Fudge a lesson."

"Alright, let's do it," Harry nodded, his smile being a bit more sure now, more confident.

Smiling back at him, Tonks hopped back up off of the bed and over to the desk, pulling out one of Harry's sheaths of parchment and reaching for the quill he'd set out. "I'll write up the letter for Bonesy explaining the whole situation, then your owl can deliver it for her. I'd send it myself, but I'm not on duty, so I can't actually use my method of getting the paper to her."

"Yeah, alright," Harry shrugged. "I mean, Hedwig'll be a while still, but—"

"_Preeeck!_"

Harry sat up in surprise and turned to see a large white shape sail in through the open window and land gracefully on the foot of the bed, right beside Harry. Hedwig glanced up at her master expectantly, before blinking and turning her head around, taking in the sights of the room that had previously been a den of rubbish and refuse. Her gaze finally landed on Tonks, looking back at her, before giving a faint, almost confused, hoot.

"…or, I guess she'll be right in," Harry finished. "That's odd, she never comes home this early—she usually takes about another half hour or so."

"Maybe she could feel that you were in distress and came to help? She is your familiar after all," Tonks suggested with a shrug, turning back to the parchment before jotting down some last notes. Feeling satisfied with her message, the metamorph quickly rolled the letter up and produced a short length of twine from her moleskin bag. She then turned to the snowy owl on the bed and cautiously approached.

"Hedwig, is it?" she asked, glancing back at the owl's master for a second, before looking back at the bird and speaking slowly. "Hedwig, I'm trying to help your master get out of a bad situation, and in order to do so, I need to send this letter to Madam Amelia Bones, Director of the DMLE. Do you think you can do that for me?"

The look the snowy owl pierced her with sent shivers down her spine. Before she could say another word, the owl had hopped up and snatched the scroll of parchment from Tonks; hand, flew up in a wide loop near the ceiling of the room, and then shot out the window and back out onto Privet Drive.

Harry watched his familiar go, and then turned to Tonks. "I guess she could do it," he replied with a small chuckle.

Tonks looked back at Harry and smiled in return. "Well, let's certainly hope so—we'll find out in a few hours whether she actually managed to get there or not." Sighing, the metamorph sat back up from the desk's chair and stretched once more, smirking as she noticed Harry's eyes dark to her chest again before darting away. "Now, if you don't mind, I think I'm going to use the shower."

"The shower?" Harry echoed. "Whatever for?"

"After all that stress from the spellcasting from earlier and the whole Ministry trial debacle and now getting my boss mixed in, I feel like I need to relieve some tension, and a nice shower always works for me." She smirked over at Harry and shot him a wink. "You're more than welcome to join me, too, if you'd like."

Harry blushed a bright red and began to splutter a reply again, but Tonks only laughed and shook her head. "Oh, don't worry, I was only joking." Grinning at the brightly blushing young man, Tonks reached into her moleskin pouch again and withdrew the letters that Sirius had handed her that morning. "Nah, while I'm in the shower, you can read these. Sirius sent them—said they'd be a bit more personal than what Dumbledore's letting him send you normally."

"Sirius sent them?" Harry leaped forward as he asked the question, reaching out to take the envelopes from her. Tonks nodded and turned to the door, walking back out into the hall.

"Yep, he seemed concerned about you, so he had me bring them along. Go ahead and read them, I'm gonna get to lathering myself up." She then paused in the doorway and shot the dark-haired young man another wink. "Offer still stands if you get bored of reading before I'm done."

Her last sight of the room before closing the door and walking to the shower was the Boy-Who-Lived looking at her with a bright red blush on his face, and bright green eyes staring back at her in shock. Again, Tonks only laughed, though once the door closed she licked her lips and nodded eagerly to herself. Oh yes, even with this small road bump, getting with Harry was going to be a lot of fun.

* * *

Ordinarily, owl post never actually made it that far into the Ministry. There was a specific section of the Ministry where letters and missives were dropped off, either by the owls or by officials and passerby that had come to deliver the letters themselves. From there, the missives were sorted and organized, the charmed into paper airplanes that sailed out to their intended recipient. Most owls, then, only ever saw as much as that first room of the process.

Hedwig was not like most owls.

Whether because she understood the importance of what the letter contained or simply because just a bit more particular than most other owls, Hedwig avoided the usual owlpost entrance to the Ministry of Magic. Instead, she flew down the elevator shaft that connected to one of the telephone booths on the muggle street above. It was a bit difficult to make her way inside and get the contraption to go where she wanted, but after a bit of hassle, Hedwig was well on her way.

It was in thanks to this peculiarity about Hedwig that she avoided getting the letter vetted by the Ministry. Which meant that the Minister would never know about the letter, nor would his allies be able to stop it from getting to its intended target.

As she flew into the main entrance hall of the Ministry of Magic, Hedwig could hear a few startled or shocked gasps down below. The snowy owl ignored them all—if they were this surprised by one owl flying where she wasn't supposed to be, she really didn't consider them worth her time. No, her attention was better left elsewhere, such as finding where to go to drop off her master's letter.

She finally landed on what looked to be the front desk of the main entrance hall. Her piercing amber eyes stared up at the man standing behind the desk, before her head swiveled over to inspect the nearby list of names and places. The female that had been with her master had told her to take the letter to someone named Madam Bones in the DMLE, so hopefully she could find where to go from this…

"What's this then?"

Hedwig's head swiveled around quickly, and she let out a sharp shriek as the man behind the desk reached for her letter. Her beak snapped forward and clipped at his hand, nipping a red line along one of his fingers.

"Gah! Watch it!" the teller grunted, pulling his hand back and clasping his other hand over where Hedwig had bit him. "Bloody bird…"

Hedwig clicked her beak indignantly back at him. This was her master's letter, and she took great pride in ensuring that all of her master's letters made it to where they needed to go completely unimpeded. She fixed the man behind the desk another piercing gaze, before turning back to the list of names.

After another moment, Hedwig let out a hoot. _Amelia Bones, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Level 3, Department Head's Office_. She'd found it—now, hopefully, it wouldn't be too difficult to get where she needed to go.

Turning back around, Hedwig took a moment to fix the man behind the desk with another piercing stare and a threatening shriek, and then flew back up into the air. She circled the entrance hall a moment before gliding down quickly, looking around for a way down to this "Level 3" the board had listed. She found it in the form of another elevator at the far end of the room—this one manned by an attendant, it looked like.

Hedwig sighed in relief. The one disguised as a telephone booth had given her enough trouble for one day.

As she flew down, the attendant inside cast a disinterested gaze down at the owl. Johann Harper had been a lift attendant for about fifteen years now, and in those years, he had seen more than his fair share of odd and unusual passengers. By comparison, one snowy owl standing on the railing of the elevator was hardly anything to get bent over.

Still, he couldn't help asking, "You do know that the Ministry's mail department is in that direction, yes?"

Hedwig turned and fixed the attendant a piercing stare, but unlike the man behind the desk, it did little to unnerve him. Instead, Johann just turned and pressed the button to shut the life doors. "Well, alright then. Which floor you going to then?"

Hedwig blinked in surprise, before puffing herself up a bit. Glad to see someone who wasn't completely annoying for a change. Preening a bit, the owl turned to the list of departments and levels, before barking out three quick hoots.

Johann raised an eyebrow at the owl before shrugging and pressing the third dimly glowing button on the dashboard. "Department of Magical Law Enforcement it is then," he replied, nodding back at the bird. The owl, for her part, ruffled her feathers a bit, looking every bit proud in herself, and let out a pleased bark in return. Johann let a small smile slip onto his face in return, just for a moment, then stood at bored attention once more.

When the lift came to a stop on the third level, Hedwig roused herself from her perch on the railing inside and hopped out, her wings unfurling and lifting her up into the air. "You're welcome," Johann called out after her, before turning back to the dashboard of floors and sent the lift back up to the main entrance level.

It wasn't difficult for Hedwig to find the Department Head's Office, as it was the largest office on the level and at the very end of the first hall. The snowy owl soared down the hallway, past the floor's receptionist—who was too busy reading the Daily Prophet to notice the bird fly through—and landed on the office's doorknob. Shrieking, she pecked her beak rapidly on the door in an attempt to get the attention of this 'Amelia Bones'.

"Alright, alright, I'm coming!"

The door opened a minute later, and as soon as it did, Hedwig flapped off of the doorknob and soared into the office. The woman in the room—older than the woman her master had been with when she'd been given her letter, and with a sterner and more serious appearance—stared at the owl in surprise, before drawing her wand from her holster and holding it silently at her side.

This might've seemed like a bit of an overreaction, but Madam Amelia Bones didn't get to where she was by being complacent. While she was nowhere near as overly cautious—or, as some would say, paranoid—as her former mentor, she had picked up a few habits from Alastor that had managed to save her more than a few times in the past. And so, when something unexpected showed up inside her office, practically unannounced, it was probably good to err on the side of caution.

"How did an owl get this far into the Ministry?" she asked, frowning.

Hedwig, for her part, merely blinked at the tall, redheaded woman, before barking sharply and gesturing adamantly at the letter she was still holding in her talons.

Madam Bones noticed the letter, and a frown split across her face as she took a step forward. Hedwig did nothing to stop her, and unclasped her talons once the department head had taken the letter. The witch raised an eyebrow at the parchment, waving her wand over it a few times. When she was certain that there was no trap or hex hidden within, she finally looked back at the owl on her desk.

"I'm assuming this is for me, then?"

Hedwig shot her a piercing look with her amber eyes and barked once more, stamping her feet for emphasis.

"I'll assume that means yes, and possibly that I should read it," Madam Bones replied, feeling more than a little unnerved at how the owl was staring at her. It seemed far too intelligent, even for magical post owls, and the attitude it was giving her made her feel as though she was being judged.

Frowning, Madam Bones turned her attention back to the letter, unravelling the length of twine that kept it shut. "From Auror Tonks?" she murmured, her brow furrowing in confusion as she read the sender's name on the letter. "I thought she didn't have an owl…what does she want, anyways, I gave her the vacation that she asked for…"

Seeing as asking her questions would give her nothing but an annoyed owl staring her down from her desk for every minute she wasn't reading, Madam Bones turned back to the paper and began reading. After a moment, however, she found herself doubling back in surprise. She read, and reread, the letter, the gears in her mind spinning rapidly as she tried to understand the message that had been sent her way. By the time she was done, the woman was so filled with righteous anger that she nearly knocked over her chair as she hastily stood up and shouted out the open doorway.

"Dawlish! Get me Mafalda Hopkirk, this instant!"

It was time to get to the bottom of this.

* * *

Harry smiled a small smile to himself as he read the last of the letters Sirius had sent him by way of Tonks. He had missed his godfather—even though he had only known him for a couple years, he already felt a deep connection to him, and not being able to send or receive many letters from him over the summer had really weighed on the young wizard's shoulders. These letters, then, had been a godsend to his weary heart.

In the letters, Sirius made sure to apologize for not being able to send more letters, as Dumbledore had been regulating the post that came to and from…wherever he was. Apparently, Sirius wasn't allowed to say exactly where, as the place had been warded over to keep it safe from detection. Which was very good for Sirius, as he was still a supposed ex-convict on the run from the law, but very bad for Harry, as he wasn't able to accurately send his mail to them, nor could he just simply find them when in a pinch.

Of course, Dumbledore had been the one behind that plan.

Getting beyond the trouble with sending his letters, Sirius' messages to Harry mostly alternated between making sure Harry was dealing well with the stress from the Triwizard Tournament, offering some not-so-sage advice about life and the pursuit thereof, and general explanations about what was happening…wherever Sirius was staying.

Apparently, wherever that was, Ron and Hermione were there as well, as Sirius had mentioned the Weasley family more than a few times in his letters, as well as a certain bushy-haired bookworm reading her way through the Black family library. Knowing they were all in abut the same place actually made Harry feel a bit better about not getting more letters from them so far this summer—as Sirius had previously mentioned, they were trying to regulate the post so that there wasn't too much attention drawn to…wherever they were.

Harry, meanwhile, couldn't help but crack a smile at Sirius' messages about dealing with the Weasley brood. Apparently, he had taken a quick liking to the twins—Fred and George—and had shared with them many stories of past exploits and adventures as a member of the Marauders. Molly Weasley, however, seemed to only be driving Sirius further towards insanity, something Harry could honestly understand. Mrs. Weasley could be a bit insufferable at times, and being stuck in the same house as her for hours on end must be driving Sirius even more stir-crazy than normal.

That, of course, brought a brief frown to Harry's face. Though his letters showed that he was getting better, it was clear to him that not all was right with Sirius. He needed help, but he couldn't get any if he couldn't go ten paces outside without being hounded by Ministry officials. In a sense, he was just as trapped as he was before he left Azkaban.

A feeling Harry probably understood far better than he should.

Harry had just finished reading the last letter from Sirius when he heard a shout from down the hall. "Harry! I need you!" the voice called out—the voice of what sounded to be a very frantic Nymphadora Tonks.

Harry stood up with a start, the letters sitting in his lap falling in a cluttered heap onto the floor. He ignored them, moving instead to grab his wand from where he'd left it on the edge of the bed and rushing out the bedroom doorway and into the hall. There probably wasn't any real trouble in the house—they were alone, after all—but he wanted to be ready in case of anything.

It was as he was drawing near the bathroom when he heard a sudden shriek, a loud crash, and Tonks's voice again, this time muttering out the words, "Oh bollocks…"

"Tonks?!" Harry shouted, throwing open the bathroom door with a start…

…and freezing upon seeing the sight before him. Nymphadora Tonks was laying on her back on the bathroom floor, her naked body still wet and sudsed up from the shower that was still running. Her hand was clasped over her eyes, and she seemed to be struggling not to release the string of profanities hanging off the end of her tongue.

Tonks, as it happened, was frustrated more at the situation she'd found herself in, and less at the pain in her eyes and her back. She had been intending to lure Harry into the bathroom under the guise of needing assistance, claiming she'd gotten soap in her eyes or something, and give him a bit of an 'unintentional' show. The sight would further plant the seed of seduction into Harry's mind, give him something about Tonks to truly lust for.

And that had been all well and good…right up until she'd _actually_ accidentally gotten soap in her eyes, slipped on the floor of the tub as she reacted to the stinging in her eyes, and ended up falling arse-over-tea-kettle out of the shower and onto the bathroom floor. It was more than a little embarrassing, as well as frustrating that her plan had gone so awry.

"U-um…Tonks?"

Harry's voice roused Tonks from her thoughts, and she let out a frustrated groan. "Hey, Harry," she replied, groaning as she reached around for something to grab onto. "I was calling you because I needed some help getting a towel, but…well…I slipped."

"I, er…I can see that…" Harry replied, blushing more as he stared down at Tonks's nude form on the floor, before he jolted himself into action, his face a bright blush. Closing his eyes, Harry dropped down and grabbed her grasping hand. "Here, um, let me help you up!"

Tonks nodded, letting Harry guide her back up onto her feet. She dropped the hand from her eyes and blinked furiously, the stinging soap finally gone. As soon as she did, though, she noticed the bright red blush spread across Harry's face, as well as the fact that he had his eyes closed—but only just, she noted—and he seemed to by trying to look away.

Maybe the shower trick wasn't a loss after all.

Tonks let Harry guide her over to sit down on the toilet cover for a moment, his eyes still shut. Tonks smiled and placed her hand on the back of his. "Thank you, Harry, I'm alright now—though, if you could still get me that towel, that'd be grand."

"Uh, towel—yeah, right! Got it!" Harry nodded quickly, turning and rushing out of the bathroom, closing the door behind him. The next minute, the door opened again—though only partway, enough for Harry to slip his arm through, holding a soft bath towel. "Here you go, Tonks!"

"Why thank you, Harry," Tonks replied, smiling at him through the crack in the door. She reached out and grabbed the towel, making certain to let her hands drift over his hands for a moment, before she turned away, a wicked grin on her face. "I'll be out in just a moment."

"A-alright!" Harry replied.

A few minutes later, Nymphadora Tonks stepped out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around her body, covering just from about halfway up her breasts to just barely her mid-thighs. She entered Harry's bedroom like that, and had to hide the grin on her face when she saw Harry's reaction. The boy had actually jumped in surprise, a bright blush spread across his face. Quickly, he'd looked away, and so Tonks decided to pretend she hadn't noticed his stare, either.

"Sorry about that, Harry," Tonks said with a chipper tone, hopping over onto the bed right beside him. "Hope you didn't see too much when you walked in like that."

"N-no, don't worry," Harry replied, making sure not to look directly at her. Somehow, seeing her in just a towel was almost more evocative to him than seeing her nude no more than a few moments ago. Blushing, Harry shook his head, trying to rid himself of that thought.

Tonks noticed his blush and smirked. "So, any word from Bonesy yet?"

Harry shook his head, glad Tonks had decided to change the subject from the embarrassment of before. "No, Hedwig hasn't returned yet. She'll probably be another hour or so—"

"_Preeeck!_"

Harry and Tonks sat up in surprise. Once again, as though she had been summoned by her master's words, Hedwig soared into the bedroom. The large snowy owl made a slow loop around the ceiling of the room once more before slowly gliding down to land right beside Harry and Tonks. Clutched in Hedwig's talons was a sleek black envelope, with a name written in golden ink on the back.

"Well, that was quick!" Tonks finally stated, smiling over at Hedwig and giving the owl an affectionate stroke through her chest feathers. "Your owl is definitely impressive, Harry."

Hedwig preened at the complement, hooting happily.

Harry grinned as well, before looking at the letter. "So, what's the letter?"

Tonks took the letter from Hedwig's talons and held it out. "Well, it's from Bonesy alright—I'd recognize that handwriting anywhere." With a nod, Tonks tore open the envelope and pulled out the letter sealed within, black ink on a crisp white parchment.

Tonks read the letter quietly for a moment, during which Harry gently stroked Hedwig's feathers, as much to thank her for her hard work as to settle his anxious nerves. He was also very glad for the distraction of his familiar, as otherwise he'd find himself ogling the very attractive, barely-clothed witch beside him. Instead, he only occasionally found his gaze drifting in her direction.

"Alright, good news!" Tonks finally cheered, and Harry quickly snapped his gaze up from where it had been lingering on her soft and smooth thighs… "Madam Bones has had your suspension frozen, and for the moment your trial has been put on hold. She wants to get a clearer picture of what happened, though, so she's gonna take your testimony tomorrow. Otherwise, it looks like you're in the clear!"

Grinning, Tonks reached over to hug Harry, glad that they'd managed to figure this out. Harry, for his part, merely blushed in surprise, before leaning into the hug from the woman beside him. It felt nice, really nice, especially feeling her breasts press up against his side through the cloth of the towel…

"Wait, tomorrow?" Harry asked, sitting upright as the words finally clicked in his head. "You mean, she's going to be coming here tomorrow?"

Tonks however, shook her head and grinned back at Harry. "No, of course not," she replied, shooting him a small wink. "We'll be going to her." Smirking, she passed the letter over to Harry, letting him read it himself.

"Tomorrow, we're taking you to the Ministry."


	5. Chap 5: The End of a Long Day

**Another day, another chapter.**

**Hey everybody, it's the Lonely Lorekeeper here again. Sorry, but this chapter is going to be a bit shorter than the others have been recently—this is going to be more of a filler chapter, though I felt I really needed it to help the story move along the right track I wanted to. Also, this chapter is pretty much 100% original****—unlike the chapters before this one, I did not refer to _losthpfanficwriter_'s story Nymphadora's Beau while writing it.**

**So, yeah, here's hoping it goes well.**

**Oh, also, I may decide to slow down on updates to just about one per week. Right now, I've started work on my first original Harry Potter fanfiction, and I want to devote more time to writing it while still writing To Date a Metamorph. As such, I'm going to try to just update once a week with this story, maybe twice if things really go well and I end up with a lot of free time on my hands to write as much as I want.**

**Anyways, that's probably enough jabbering from me****—on with the story!**

* * *

**Chapter 5: The End of a Long Day**

Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore sat behind the large desk in his office at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, his focus on a small device that he was tinkering with. With Voldemort back, new measures would need to be put in place to ensure Harry's security and protection. He had no doubt that the blood wards he'd placed on the Dursley house were still in good working order, but it never hurt to add a few more precautions just in case.

Dumbledore had a lot of precautions set up when it came to Harry, each displayed as rather innocuous devices that sat upon his desk. There was a top that registered Harry's health, which became more erratic when Harry was ill or injured. Beside it was a teapot that constantly released puffs of steam so long as the binds he'd placed on Harry's core remained in place. And not far from that was another device, a series of metal balls connected to string and that bounced off each other, which measured the loyalty charm, and of course there was the sphere at the end of his table, spinning slowly, representing the blood wards.

Of course, Dumbledore's precautions weren't simply limited to the tools and devices laid out on his desk. With the power he held, he had set himself up as Harry's magical guardian, allowing him to take control of Harry's post—the incoming post at least, he wasn't sure how the boy's bird managed to evade his control so easily—as well as managing the Potter accounts at Gringotts for him.

These precautions of Dumbledore's would probably be viewed as more than a bit controlling and manipulative to most, but to Dumbledore they were the clear decisions to make. Harry was a very important piece in the fight against Voldemort, and as such he needed to be kept safe, while also being molded into the role he was destined for. He was the sacrificial pawn, after all, the one who would die so that the rest of the magical world would live and prosper.

It was, as he so often said, for the greater good.

Dumbledore had just been putting the final touches on the device at hand—a bowl of marbles that glowed different colors in order to let him know when an unauthorized magical individual was at or near Number 4 Privet Drive—when he noticed that another trinket at the far end of his table had begun to make a racket. Dumbledore frowned and set the bowl of marbles down, turning his attention to the odd trinket made of several tin disks that clattered together.

This device, Dumbledore noted, was connected to the Improper Use of Magic branch of the DMLE. Specifically, it was tied to the device there that monitored Harry's trace and the subtle manipulation he'd placed on it. It appeared that Harry had been caught using magic at the Dursley's again.

Dumbledore frowned and gently rapped his fingers upon the hardwood surface of his desk, his mind mulling over this new development. He had placed a subtle confundus charm upon Harry's trace once Harry began attending school at Hogwarts, so that it only registered while he was at the Dursley's and in the neighboring area. So, there was no doubt that something was indeed happening at the Dursley's, but what it was he hadn't a clue.

Glancing over at the other trinkets on his desk, he was pleased to see that they were all spinning, tapping, and puffing the appropriate amount. Whatever had happened at the Dursleys, it hadn't seemed to have caused Harry any sort of harm. So, that at least was one concern laid to rest.

Still, the fact that it had gone off at all confused him.

Frowning, Dumbledore stood from his desk and walked over to the nearby fireplace. He grabbed a handful of the dazzling powder sitting in the mug atop the mantle and tossed it in, causing the faintly flickering fire in the hearth to suddenly blaze up and turn a bright and iridescent green color. Standing tall, Dumbledore spoke firmly into the fire. "Ministry of Magic, the Improper Use of Magic's Department Head's Office."

Seeming to hear and understand his words, the fire flared up again, before almost seeming to part like a curtain. Through the green fire, Dumbledore could see into a fairly quaint little office space. A short and plump woman was sitting at a desk in the room, her hair pulled back into a bun as she busied herself with the papers on her desk. She hadn't seemed to have noticed Dumbledore yet, too focused on the paper before her.

"Alright…and, that should do it," the woman muttered, nodding firmly to herself. She lifted the paper up off the desk, and very quickly it folded itself up into a paper airplane and zipped out of the doorway. The woman sighed as she watched the airplane fly out, before lowering her gaze to her desk again.

Dumbledore raised an eyebrow and cleared his through. "Excuse me, Mafalda Hopkirk?"

The woman on the other side of the fireplace squeaked in surprise, and she seemed to hop in her chair, which nearly toppled over in response. Very quickly, however, the woman steadied herself and sighed, before looking about the room frantically for whatever had called out to her. It didn't take long for her attention to turn to the fireplace at the far end of the room, and the green flames that were currently billowing from it.

"Oh, excuse me!" Mafalda called out, hopping up and walking over. "I didn't realize that I had a floo-call! Well, Professor Dumbledore, what can I do for you?"

Dumbledore smiled cheerily, his eyes twinkling from behind his half-moon spectacles. "Mafalda, my dear, it has been twenty-five years since you last were a student at Hogwarts. It is more than alright for you to simply call me Albus or Mr. Dumbledore."

His sweet and honeyed tone caused a faint redness to dust Mafalda's cheeks in embarrassment, and she nodded her head quickly. "Yes of course, A…Mr. Dumbledore," she quickly stated, "So, what did you need?"

"Yes, well," Dumbledore said, before frowning and feeling a twinge in his back, "Would you mind if I come through? Stooping down to talk like this isn't exactly the most comfortable thing in the world, certainly not at my age."

"Oh of course, of course, come right through!" Mafalda replied, quickly hopping back and waving the older wizard through.

Dumbledore sighed with relief and stood up. In the next instant and in a flash of green light, Dumbledore found himself standing in the center of Mafalda's office, the witch hurrying back over to her desk where she sat herself back down. "Oh please, do make yourself comfortable," Mafalda said, gesturing to one of the nearby chairs.

"Why thank you, Mafalda dear," Dumbledore replied, moving over to sit down. As he did, he did a subtle wandless transfiguration spell to make the seat a bit more cushiony and comfortable. Sighing, he turned back to the woman sitting at the office desk. "Now then, Mafalda dear, I was wondering if you could settle an old man's weary heart for a moment. You see, I just came to find that one of my charges has recently been charged with a case of improper use of magic."

"I see," Mafalda replied, turning to her small pile of papers and rifling through it. "What is your charge's name?"

"Harry Potter," Dumbledore replied calmly.

To his surprise, Mafalda seemed to wince and groan. "Oh no, not you too." Sighing, she turned back to Dumbledore and shrugged. "Sorry, it's just that I just came back from the DMLE to help them sort this out. But don't worry, Mr. Potter will be fine."

"The DMLE?" Dumbledore asked, frowning. "What are they doing, being brought into the mix."

"Now Mr. Dumbledore, you know I can't say that," Mafalda replied, lightly admonishing the powerful sorcerer before her. "As it is DMLE business, it is private and I need to keep it secret between my department and theirs. All I can tell you is how it relates to your charge, and that you needn't worry any more. Madam Bones and her department will have this all sorted out for you and Mr. Potter, don't you worry."

Dumbledore frowned, and his eyes twinkled once more. This time, however, rather than a simple glamor to make himself seem more gentle and unassuming, they were the sign of him accessing his skills in legilimency. With practiced precision and grace, the elder wizard reached into Mafalda Hopkirk's mind and slipped his way through her defenses as though they were nothing but an open doorway beckoning him further in.

What he found did not please him.

It appeared as though someone had tipped the director of the DMLE about there being something wrong with Harry's trace, and Madam Bones had then called for Mafalda so that the two of them could work together to get to the bottom of it. And while Dumbledore knew there was no way for them to ever notice the confundus he'd placed on the trace, it would cause them to look with more suspicion to any alarms that were sent their way from Harry.

Dumbledore had specifically placed the confundus on the trace so that it would pick up the spellcraft from other witches and wizards near Harry, rather than Harry himself. That way, should Harry ever become attacked by someone with dark intentions, the Ministry itself would be able to quickly know and send someone to investigate. If they found reason to doubt the trace, however, they'd be less likely to listen to it, and Harry would be in more danger.

Frowning, Dumbledore pulled back from his delve into Mafalda's mind and passed a gentle smile back to her. "Well then, thank you, Mafalda dear. I'm glad to hear that you and the DMLE have this all under control."

Mafalda, utterly unaware of what the old professor had just done, just simply smiled back at Dumbledore and nodded. "You're most welcome, Mr. Dumbledore. After all, I'd thought the report had been a bit fishy to begin with, but after Madam Bones brought it to my attention, I knew something was up."

"Yes, yes," Dumbledore nodded, "Out of curiosity, by the way, for my young charge of course, what were the alleged spells that Mr. Potter supposedly cast to receive this warning?"

Mafalda chuckled softly and shook her head. "Why, that's quite the question, isn't it? As ridiculous as it might sound, Mr. Dumbledore, Mr. Potter was charged for, of all things, some simple house-cleaning spells."

"Really?" Dumbledore asked, his eyes twinkling as he laughed along with Mafalda. "Well, that is something. Well now, I believe with you handling this, I'm good to take my leave. Thank you for having me, Mafalda."

"Oh, of course, Mr. Dumbledore! Always a pleasure!"

Dumbledore nodded and turned back to the floo entrance behind him. In another flash of emerald flames, the old professor found himself back in his office, his cheery disposition disappearing quickly.

This was troubling. Not only because of the threat it posed his plans for Harry, but also because of the method that this was all coming about. Someone had brought this situation to the attention of the DMLE, but who it was exactly he had been unable to glean. Whoever it was must've been there when it happened, and was trying to help Harry out of it. Which would've been a noble effort any other time, but as it was taking away one of his means of keeping Harry in check and out of harms way, it was only worrying.

Frowning, Dumbledore turned to the list of Order members that were supposed to be on Harry Watch duty today. Nymphadora Tonks was the one scheduled for the current shift, so she had likely seen what had happened. Even better, she was an Auror, and so she would have a far easier time getting a message to Madam Bones about what had happened to begin with. Dumbledore sighed, stroking a hand through his long beard.

What on earth was going on at Privet Drive?

* * *

Once Tonks had successfully calmed Harry down once more about the meeting tomorrow, the two of them spent the next hour or so setting up plans. These plans helped Harry feel like they had a bit more control of the situation than he currently felt, and they went a long way towards helping him understand what to expect when they left the next morning.

By the time they were done with their planning—during which Tonks had conjured up a folding screen to change behind—the day was already starting to wind down. It was still light out, but the sun was starting to get low in the sky, and the bedroom was tinted a faint orange from the sunlight streaming in through the window. Hedwig, over on her perch inside her cage, ruffled her feathers a bit—it was almost time to head out for the hunt.

Tonks, however, merely frowned as they came to the end of their planning session, now dressed in the change of clothes she'd brought along inside her moleskin pouch for her stay. She had been planning on spending the day getting to know Harry, getting closer to him, and getting him to open up to her, just as Hermione had suggested back at Grimmauld Place. However, thanks to the wonkiness going on with his trace, she was forced to put her personal plans to the side for the moment.

Now, the day was almost done, and in a few more hours Harry would need to head off to bed so that he could rise early for their meeting the next morning. The metamorph deflated a bit a that—if it hadn't been for that damned trace, she would've been able to spend more time getting to know Harry. As it was, the day had ended up mostly being a waste to her greater plans.

She, of course, ignored the tiny fact that it had technically been her fault that the trace had acted up at all.

Sighing, Tonks hopped up from the bed and leaned into a long stretch. Well, no point in crying over spilt milk now. The day might've been ruined by the little fiasco they'd just gone through, but the night was still young, and she still had a bit of a chance to work her magic on Harry's heart.

"Mmm, well, now that that's all sorted out, I think I could use something to eat!" Tonks suddenly stated, smirking over at Harry who was staring back up at her. "Come on, let me take you out, my treat—it's only right, after the day you just had."

Harry grinned back at Tonks and nodded, standing quickly and moving to pull on a pair of roughed-up-looking trainers near the door. The prospect of having a nice meal for a change, one that he didn't need to cook for himself even, brought a bit more of a spring into his step. "Sounds good to me…but, are you sure, Tonks? I mean, I'd hate to impose…"

He glanced over his shoulder back at Tonks, only to be met by a very flat, very unamused expression looking back at him. Tonks, as it were, found Harry's modesty to be rather endearing at times over the course of her time with him. However, after a few hours of him tripping over himself trying not to upset or annoy her, it sounded less like modesty, and more like yet another red flag towards how much harm the Dursleys had done to the young man.

By the time she was done with him, Tonks hoped to help Harry past that.

"Harry, after the stress of what you've gone through today, you deserve a nice treat for once," Tonks replied, crossing her arms across her chest and unintentionally making her breasts appear more pronounced than before. "Really, it's no bother. Now, come on."

Before Harry could respond, Tonks had turned and walked out of the bedroom and began heading down the hall. Harry quickly followed after her, feeling more than a little sheepish about his own anxiousness when dealing with Tonks. To be fair, while he knew he was a bit more mature than most of his peers thanks to his upbringing, he was still well out of his depth when it came to girls. The most experience he had was during the Yule Ball, which had been a total flop, and neither Pavarti Patil nor Cho Chang even came close to the wild beauty Tonks carried.

Of course, he knew that she was likely just doing it to tease him, but that didn't stop him from reacting with embarrassment at her acts, intentional or not. Like how she'd unintentionally brought attention to her breasts a moment ago, or how his eyes were now accidentally drawn and locked on her ass that had somehow been squeezed into the skinny black jeans she was now wearing…

Harry blushed and shook his head. He needed to stop thinking, and fast.

A little while later, after locking the house up behind them, Tonks led Harry out of the neighborhood and to a nearby fast food place. It wasn't the healthiest, nor was it the most ostentatious of options, but it was close, and the food was supposed to be really good, so they went inside and ordered. A few minutes later, Harry was digging into a delicious sandwich with a side of chips, while Tonks slowly slurped a smooth and creamy milkshake.

"Seriously, again Tonks, thanks," Harry said between bites of his sandwich, "I really owe you one."

Tonks, meanwhile, merely shrugged and smiled back at Harry, "I'll keep that in mind, then, though really any excuse to eat out is a blessing. My mum hates the idea of me eating nothing but 'junk food', so I'll leap at any chance I get. Besides, it gives me a chance to finally sit down and get to know you, which was what I was really hoping for before this whole trace business started up."

Harry raised an eyebrow, taking a moment to sip from his drink. "What do you want to know?"

Tonks shrugged and leaned back against the booth they were sitting in. "Well…how about, to start, what do you like most about the wizarding world since you rejoined us five years ago?"

Harry blinked in surprise—he certainly hadn't been expecting a question like that. He had honestly been expecting something to do with his scar, or whatever he remembered from the night his parents had died. On a lesser extent, he'd expected her to pry into his personal life, especially now that she'd seen how he'd been forced to live. Still, the question brought a smile to his face, and he took another sip of his drink as he thought of an answer.

"Probably flying," Harry finally replied, setting his drink down. "I know there's a lot of things to love about the wizarding world—and a lot to hate, but that's another thing entirely—but being able to fly…well, it was always a dream of mine as a kid. Coming to the wizarding world made it a reality, and in a lot of different ways, too. Riding a broom, of course, but also riding on the back of a hippogryph, or letting a phoenix fly me around."

"Wait, you've ridden a hippogryph?" Tonks asked, looking more than a bit impressed. "And a _phoenix_?"

"Well, I really don't think the phoenix counts as riding," Harry replied with a laugh, "If anything I was more just carry-on luggage for its flight. Now, if you don't mind, I've got a question for you, Tonks."

"Oh?"

Harry paused, thinking over the best way to ask what he'd been dying to know for the past few hours. "When you first showed up, you did something to make your eyes really big and cat-like…what was that?"

"Oh right! I never got around to telling you about that, did I?" Tonks laughed at herself and set her shake back down onto the table. "Well, Harry, I'm what you'd call a metamorphmagus, basically a natural shapeshifter. We're really rare—some of the pureblood bigots actually think of us as a whole other species, if you can believe it."

"Really?" Harry asked, his eyes wide. "So, then, what can you do?"

Tonks grinned, and after glancing around the small fast food restaurant's lobby a moment to make sure no one was around to see, she let her hair grow super short, turn bright blue, and make her nose look like a pig's. Harry, who had been in the midst of taking a drink, had to hold himself back from snorting in laughter. He ended up curling up on his side of the booth, coughing and spluttering.

"Impressive, isn't it?" Tonks asked with a playful smirk. "I can pretty much transform myself however much I want. I'm a walking, talking Polyjuice potion and more, though I mostly just use my powers to keep myself looking good."

As she said that, her hair shifted back to its usual punk style in a bubblegum pink color, and her nose reverted to its usual button nose shape. At the same time, though, Harry noticed Tonks's chest expand, her shirt seeming to strain under the pressure of her larger breasts. The metamorph shot him a playful wink, which only made Harry blush and quickly look away. He had to admit, though, that was pretty impressive.

The ability, not the breasts.

Though the breasts were pretty impressive too…

Harry cursed his hormonally charged mind, trying to banish his blush away, before turning back to Tonks. "Alright, I see what you mean," Harry replied, quickly grabbing another bite of his sandwich while he ignored Tonks's soft laughter at his plight.

"Yeah, it's a pretty useful skill, in a lot of ways," Tonks replied, shooting Harry another wink. "Now, if you don't mind me asking…how in the bloody hell do you get yourself flown around by a phoenix of all things?"

The conversation continued on like that for another hour or so, with Harry and Tonks sharing stories and trading barbs. It was really nice, actually, and Harry found himself smiling—truly, genuinely smiling—more and more throughout the night. He found that he really enjoyed talking with Tonks, whenever she wasn't acting overly flirty or teasing. And as for Tonks, she certainly got a much better idea of just who Harry Potter really was.

And she was happily falling for him a little more every time.

Eventually, their little hang out time was cut to a close as the restaurant's manager came by to gently ask them to leave so that he could finally close for the night. So, with bellies full of a delicious meal and faces pulled into warm smiles, Harry and Tonks walked back down the road towards Privet Drive, still laughing and sharing memories with each other.

When they finally arrived at the house, it was finally dark out and Harry could feel the need for sleep crashing over him. Still, he felt a bit bothered by Tonks's situation, and asked her what her plan for the night was. When she revealed that she only intended to sleep on the couch in the living room, Harry quickly rejected the notion.

"I mean, if you think about it, you're my guest, and I can't just let you sleep on the couch," Harry tried to reason back at her. "You can have my bed for the night—I can sleep on the couch."

Tonks, however, stood firm. "Nope, no can do, you need your rest for tomorrow, Harry." With that, the metamorph practically forced Harry up the stairs towards his bedroom. In her own private desires, she of course wished to join him—who knew just where sharing a bed with the handsome young man might lead, after all—but after the long day, she mostly just wanted to sleep, and she knew Harry was feeling the same way. She could crash on the couch, it'd be fine.

So, after being nearly shoved up the steps, Harry finally relented and disappeared upstairs. Tonks smirked as she watched him go, before turning and changing into her sleepwear she'd brought along—which consisted simply of an extra large t-shirt—and plopping down onto the couch, casting a simple spell to make it feel much softer. Sighing, Tonks closed her eyes and let herself drift off to sleep. For as bad as the day had started, it hadn't been too bad after all.

Or so she thought.

About two hours into her sleep on the couch, Tonks was awakened by a shout from upstairs. The witch popped up off the bed, drawing her wand from where she'd left it on the nearby coffee table. Her heart pounding in her ears, she could hear someone sobbing and shouting at odd intervals. The voice, as it turned out, was coming from upstairs—from where Harry was.

Quick as a flash, Tonks dashed up the stairs and threw open Harry's bedroom door. She glanced around quickly for any sign of distress, but could find nothing but Harry, laying in his bed. And that was all that she could see for a good long moment, and so, with her heart still pounding in her ears, she turned to leave.

And then she heard it.

"Cedric…Cedric, no…go, please…"

Tonks froze at the doorway, slowly turning back to face Harry. Now, she could see more clearly the sweat dotting his forehead, the ragged breathing as he thrashed under the sheets, and the tears leaking from his shut eyes. He was having a nightmare, and perhaps of the worst thing possible. He was reliving that night in the graveyard, the night that Voldemort had been resurrected.

Tonks felt her heart ache at that realization, but before she could do anything else, she heard something else—something that, once she heard it, broke her heart clean in two.

"Mum?"

Harry's voice, even while asleep, sounded so broken and fragile. The sobs, now, came with force, shaking the young man's body as he curled up more in his bed, trying desperately to hide from whatever phantom was tormenting his mind with these images.

At that, Tonks had seen more than enough and forced her feet to move towards the four-poster bed. Quickly, quietly, the metamorph crept over to the bed and slipped under the blankets and sheets. Reaching out with gentle arms, Tonks gathered Harry into her embrace, and pulled him close against her from behind. She rested her cheek against the small of his back, and slowly shook her head back and forth.

"It's alright, Harry, it's going to be okay…" Tonks gently murmured, "I promise, everything is going to be okay."

Her words seemed to do the trick, that or her embrace, as only a few minutes after Tonks had joined Harry in his bed than had the young man finally stopped his sobs. He quieted, and seemed to curl into a tired ball, leaning into Tonks's embrace. Tonks, for her credit, blushed brightly, before smiling and leaning forward to place a gentle kiss upon Harry's cheek.

"Goodnight, Harry," she whispered, before getting herself comfortable and slowly falling asleep right behind him, still holding him in a gentle, comforting embrace.


	6. Chap 6: The Whole Truth

**Hey everybody, the Lonely Lorekeeper is back again, and I'm here with another chapter of To Date a Metamorph. Sorry for taking so long with the new chapter, I had a bunch of homework that came up and I had to work through, and I've been also busy trying to figure out what my original fanfiction is going to be. I think I have an idea of where I want to take the story, but I'm still working on it, still letting it work around a bit. I'll hopefully have it figured out by the time school's out, so I have the summer to work on it.**

**Once again, thank you all for the incredible responses you've been giving me. I love reading all of your reviews—or at least, most of your reviews****—and they help me figure out what I can do better, and what I should try focusing on. So please, keep sending in the reviews, so that I can become a better writer and provide better content for all of you to enjoy. I've got big shoes to fill, after all****—_losthpfanficwriter_ was a great fanfictioneer, and his story Nymphadora's Beau was wonderful, and I hope to do half as well as he did.**

**Anyways, that's enough from me, let's get on with the story!**

* * *

**Chapter 6: The Whole Truth**

True to Tonks' word, the next day found Harry rising early to head over to the Ministry of Magic. The previous night, he had been more than a little nervous about the coming meeting with Madam Bones. Tonks seemed to trust her, but Tonks also worked for her. Harry, however, was used to adults ignoring his plights in the past, and as hopeful Tonks might've been, he couldn't shake the nerves that fourteen years of being ignored had instilled in him.

Still, that morning Harry woke feeling more refreshed and well-rested than he had all summer so far. The bed that Tonks had magicked up for him was so much softer and nicer than his old one—in fact, he'd almost dare to say it was even nicer than the bed he had at Hogwarts. Laying there, wrapped up in the blankets and feeling a warmth surrounding him, he felt safe and relaxed—free from the nightmares that had plagued him since the Triwizard Tournament, free from the expectations of a cruel and unjust world, free.

And that was when he noticed that not just blankets were wrapped around him.

Harry froze, his heart pounding loudly in his chest. Two long and slender arms encircled his chest, the soft and gentle hands laying over his heart and down near his navel, while a single long and sinfully smooth leg had reached around and hooked over one of his. He could feel a body leaning up against his back, two pillow-soft breasts pressing into him and doing terrible things to his hormones, and near the back of his neck, he could feel someone gently breathing, sending pleasant shivers down his spine.

Shivering, Harry turned slowly and shot a glance over his shoulder. Sure enough, it was Tonks, though she looked different than the day before. She still looked like Tonks, mostly, but her hair was now a dark black, much like his own, and fell in a short wave of ringlets around her face. As for her face, it was just a bit sharper than before, with angles that looked more at place on a regal beauty's face than that of a punk rocker.

Harry stared in wonder. Was this what Tonks really looked like, under all of her metamorphic abilities? If so, he could see why she had wanted to change it, purely for aesthetic purposes alone. He did admit, though, that even this version of Tonks was incredibly attractive, but in an almost deadly, forbidden sort of way.

Harry was pulled from that line of thought when he started to hear Tonks begin to moan softly. It seemed like she was starting to wake up—or at least trying to, though her body seemed adamant about staying in bed, if her arms and legs wrapping ever more possessively around her were any indication. A bright blush spread across Harry's face at that, and he turned to try and quietly slip out of the bed without waking his surprise bedmate.

"Mmm…Harry?"

No such luck.

Again, Harry froze, and turned back to see Tonks still leaning into him, though her eyes began to blink away the sleep still in them. She had deep, hypnotic violet eyes, eyes that made it hard for Harry to not stare into. Harry gulped audibly before shooting the witch nestled up against him a small smile.

"Hey Tonks," he replied, "Have a…uh, have a nice sleep?"

Tonks blinked slowly back at him, and slowly her eyes changed from deep violet, to a kind of muddled grey, to finally a warm umber. She smiled and nodded, pulling away from him to stretch languidly on the bed, her hair quickly shifting back into its punkish style and bright pink color. "Mmm, I slept wonderfully, Harry, thank you for asking," Tonks replied, her face and form finally shifting fully back to her 'normal'. "You make a good pillow, you know."

Harry watched her stretch, his mouth becoming more than a little dry, and he felt a flash of heat spread across his face—he quickly looked away before she could notice. "Uh, no, I didn't…hey, Tonks? Why were you in my bed, anyway?"

Tonks paused in her stretches, a look of recollection flashing across her face, though Harry wasn't looking to see it. She remembered waking up last night to the sound of Harry's frightful screams and cries. She remembered bursting into his bedroom, finding him thrashing about in the midst of a terrible nightmare, and moving to comfort him. She then remembered her attempts to slip her way out of that comforting embrace, only to find herself stuck in place.

She'd had a good sleep, too. It was rare that she could so quickly get comfortable once she was in bed, but laying with Harry that night had just felt so calming, she'd passed out barely a moment after wishing him goodnight. And then there were the dreams she'd had, too—some pleasant, and some even more so. A faint blush spread across her face at the memory, one that she easily hid with her metamorphic powers.

Tonks, however, just smiled back at Harry and shrugged. "Turns out the couch wasn't as comfortable as I'd imagined, and there was no way in hell I'd try sleeping in either of the walrus's beds, so I thought I'd share with you. Hope it wasn't too much a bother."

Harry shook his head quickly, his blush fading a bit, though he had a feeling that was because his blood had all quickly moved in the opposite direction of his head very quickly. "No, no, it's fine," Harry replied, looking back over at Tonks with a nervous smile. "Just a bit of a surprise is all. Anyways, I'm going to go shower so I'm ready for the meeting with Madam Bones, okay?"

Before Tonks could say another word, Harry hopped up out of the bed, quickly grabbed a change of clothes from the wardrobe, and then darted out of the bedroom. Tonks watched Harry leave—his back was to her the entire way, but as he opened the door out into the hallway, she got a good glance at the bulge in the shorts he used as pajamas. She couldn't help but lick her lips at the sight, and softly laugh to herself. Well, that would certainly explain why he'd been so jumpy.

Of course, finding himself in bed with a beautiful woman could certainly have that effect.

Laughing to herself at that, Tonks finally stood up from the bed and began making her way down to the living room, where she quickly changed into the clothes she'd already pulled out of her moleskin pouch the previous evening. Then, once she was fully dressed, and with Harry still up in the shower, Tonks headed over to the kitchen, intent on making the two of them some kind of breakfast before they headed out.

The Dursleys, as it turned out, had more than plenty of food stored away in their kitchen. It actually disgusted Tonks—there was no possible way they actually ate enough food for the quantity she saw to be necessary. It was just the four of them, after all, yet in the fridge there was enough of all the food to feed a full Quidditch team for a few weeks.

Frowning, Tonks ignored her disgust and pulled a carton of eggs out.

When Harry finally walked down the stairs, freshly showered and fully dressed, Tonks was putting to death the last of a small grease fire that had burst up on the stove. The eggs were done, if a bit burnt, and she had decided to cook a few rashers of bacon in addition. The bacon ended up being her undoing, as some of the fat had spilled and ignited on the stovetop below.

Tonks turned around to see Harry staring in surprise, and she gave him a wane smile. "Oh, Harry! Sorry about the mess, I thought I could whip us up some breakfast while you were in the shower."

The grease fire sputtered quietly behind her before finally fizzling out.

Tonks laughed softly, rubbing the tip of her nose. "I'm…well, I'm not that good with cooking, I guess."

Harry's lips quirked up into a smirk. The sight of her, embarrassed and nervous while standing in the kitchen, helped to cut a bit of the tension he'd been feeling since that morning. It was almost hard to believe that the woman before him now was the same one that had been shamelessly flirting with him on and off the previous day. Then again, though, there were more sides to him than what most people saw, too.

"Hey, it happens to the best of us," he replied, remembering all of the times he'd accidentally started grease fires in the past. At least she hadn't accidentally burnt herself—or, worse, been hit because of the mistake. He smiled and stepped forward, giving the air a deep sniff. "Smells good, though."

Tonks smiled gently in return, glad he was choosing to humor her over this. After all, all she could smell was the foul odor from the grease fire. She laughed at that, then, and passed him a plate of eggs and bacon. "Well then, Mr. Potter, next time you can cook for us instead. How about that?"

"Sounds fine by me, Tonks," Harry replied, taking the plate and moving over the kitchen. "Less chance of accidentally burning the place down or tripping into the stove if I'm the one cooking."

Tonks's only response was to roll her eyes and toss one of the oven mitts at him, smacking him in the back of the head.

Harry and Tonks arrived at the Ministry of Magic little under an hour later. Harry was wearing a new set of clothes—a pair of dark black jeans and a plain red shirt, with a slim black jacket that emphasized his strong and slender figure. Tonks had insisted he wear something other than the oversized hand-me-downs from his walking-tub-of-lard cousin, and when Harry had mentioned that he had nothing else to wear, Tonks had quickly transfigured the new outfit from his old rags.

The clothes fit comfortably and were much nicer than anything else he owned, aside from perhaps the dress robes he'd worn to the Yule Ball last year. The Dursleys would never buy him anything the fit or felt as good as these, and he knew that if he ever showed up at their door dressed like that, they'd find the soonest chance they could to ruin it. Still, it felt nice to wear, if only for the moment.

He did wonder, idly, how long the transfiguration would hold. Hopefully through the whole meeting, at least.

They rode the elevator down to the Ministry atrium, Harry's attention leaving his clothes and his companion to stare in wonder all around them. It was amazing to think such a large structure was standing hidden deep under London's streets—but, then again, so was Gringotts, and that had to be even larger. Still, he couldn't help but stare, his head and eyes spinning a mile a minute as he took in all the details.

Tonks smiled as she watched Harry's awe—it was clear that he'd never been here before, and she found his reactions amusing. She stifled a giggle as she saw him gasp as a sheath of paper airplanes flew by, then guided him across the atrium to the elevators on the other side of the floor. When she got inside, she nodded to the attendant and shot him a kind grin.

"Wotcher, Johann, how's the day going?"

The man in the elevator just gave Tonks and Harry a slow nod back as he pressed the button to have the lift doors shut. "Oh, you know," Johann replied in a low, rather morose tone, "just more of the usual—another day, another galleon, y'know what I mean?"

"I hear that," Tonks nodded with a laugh, before leaning back against the wall of the elevator. "Take me down to the usual, Johann—I've got to take Harry here down to see Bonesy."

The man named Johann turned and looked back over at Harry. Harry grimaced, and waited tensed and ready for the look of shock and awe to dash across the young man's face, before he badgered Harry with praise and questions. Instead, Johann merely looked at him in a sort of disinterested fashion—he didn't even glance up at Harry's scar—before nodding and looking back at the consol.

"Third level it is then, Tonks," Johann replied, pressing the button and causing the lift to shudder before slowly descending downwards even deeper into the Ministry's depths.

Tonks smiled and rocked back on her heels beside Harry, the elevator mostly quiet aside from the low grinding noise of the lift moving down the shaft. "So, Johann," she finally asked, breaking the silence and turning to the lift's attendant, "written any good songs recently?"

Johann nodded, giving Harry and Tonks a slow shrug. "Yeah, I've been working on some compositions in my free time, whenever I'm not stuck here, of course."

Tonks nodded, before turning back to Harry and grinning. "Johann here is an old friend from Hogwarts—he was another Hufflepuff in my year, and pretty good with charms. He's also a pretty good musician."

"I'm not a 'pretty good musician', Tonks," Johann suddenly snapped back, shooting the pink-haired metamorph a firm frown—or at least as firm a frown as he could muster, and yet still have a sort of vacant, bored expression on his face. "I'm one of the wizarding world's best musicians. Someday, my music will be more popular than the Weird Sisters, the Hexen Meistros, Beethoven…just as soon as I finish my composition."

"Well, I look forward to it, then, Johann," Tonks replied with a nod. Harry, however, blinked in surprise.

"Wait, Beethoven was a wizard?"

Johann and Tonks paused, before the metamorph laughed and nodded. "Yeah, he was. Not surprised you don't know—you never grew up in a wizarding household, so you didn't listen to your mum or dad's old Beethoven records, and Binns prefers to focus on outdated conflicts with magical races in his lectures and forgets to talk more about wizarding culture through the ages."

"It's a crying shame," Johann nodded, his voice even more morose than before.

Harry stared between the two of them for a moment before shaking his head and shrugging slightly to himself. He'd known that he didn't know a lot about the wizarding world for a while now—Tonks's advice about his predicament with the improper use of magic and getting him sorted out with the DMLE certainly had hinted at that, but so far he was growing more and more intrigued by the minute.

It was a good distraction from the feeling of anxiety still welling up inside him.

That anxiety finally rose to the surface again when the lift came to a slow halt, the gears and wheels above them whining as they slowed the elevator down. Johann, still staring blankly out front, reached over to open the doors of the elevator, and then turned back to Tonks and Harry. "Third Floor—location of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement."

"Thanks Johann," Tonks replied with a nod, before turning back to Harry and taking his hand. "Come on now, you, the sooner you meet with Bonesy, the sooner we can get on with the rest of our day."

Harry nodded back at Tonks, her hand in his helping to steady him as he stepped out of the elevator. Still, as he looked down the hallway of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, he couldn't help but feel more than a little intimidated. The hallway was carved from a glossy black marble, with tall pillars holding up the ceiling above, and moving about the hallway in different offices and rooms were several serious-looking wizards and witches in bright scarlet robes.

Tonks seemed to notice Harry's trepidation, and as Johann coaxed the elevator behind them back up to the atrium, she gave his hand a firm squeeze. "Hey, buck up now, Harry! I know it can seem a bit bleak and scary, but trust me—these guys are the good guys, and right now, we're only here to try and help you, alright? Just don't look weak or scared, and they won't push you around."

Tonks's comforting words and touch made Harry sigh and nod, before he quickly steeled his gaze and stood tall, his shoulders squaring up. Thinking on it, actually, it was a bit laughable that he was so anxious about this. After all, he had faced down dragons, a basilisk, and dementors, and managed to stand tall and strong, but the thought of having to be in the same room as a bunch of wizard police so soon after getting a letter that he'd broken wizarding law…well, it gave him a bit of laugh to think.

With that, Harry and Tonks marched down the hallway, past the other Aurors in the nearby halls and offices. A few, of course, did look over—Nymphadora Tonks wasn't exactly the most subtle member of the force to begin with, and it wasn't every day that a celebrity the likes of Harry Potter wandered into their precinct—but Harry ignored them, and just stuck to Tonks' side as she led him towards the largest office at the back of the hall.

The assistant outside the office looked up at Tonks as she approached, but Tonks merely shuffled around in her moleskin pouch and produced her badge. "Auror Tonks here with Harry Potter to meet with Director Bones."

The assistant's eyes widened as Tonks explained her reason for being there, and her eyes darted over to Harry, eyes searching his forehead for that tell-tale scar. Harry noticed, also, that she seemed to scoot away from him a bit—apparently she believed some of what the papers were telling them. After a moment of silence, though, the assistant nodded back at Tonks and went back to her work.

Tonks nodded in turn, and then let go of Harry's hand to open the door and then walk inside. Harry, after a moment of silent deliberation, straightened his shoulders once more and then followed in behind her, the door closing behind him with a soft click.

Inside the large office, Harry and Tonks found a couple people waiting for them. Behind the large desk in the room was a stern-looking redhead wearing a monocle—likely Madam Bones, if her red robes were anything to go by—but sitting not too far from her, in one of the chairs along the side of the room, was another woman who looked almost as anxious as Harry. Her anxiety actually made Harry a bit more nervous, though he tried not to let it show.

"Auror Tonks," Madam Bones sighed, her voice coming out in a crisp, clear tone. "I see you managed to bring Mr. Potter here unaccosted. Well done."

"Hey, it was no problem," Tonks replied with a shrug.

Madam Bones nodded to Tonks, and then turned to look at Harry, who quickly tried to stand a bit straighter under that imperious gaze. "Harry Potter…I've heard a lot about you, both from my Aurors as well as from the papers. I hope the truth isn't as ridiculous as what the Minister is trying to peddle."

Harry blinked in surprise, before his mind caught hold of the chance presented before him. "If we have time after this, maybe I can tell you the truth—hopefully you'll be more willing to listen than the Minister was."

One of Madam Bones' slender eyebrows rose in interest, and she nodded back at him, her face still set in a firm and serious expression. "Perhaps so," she replied, adjusting her monocle, before turning her attention back to the moment at hand, and gesturing to the shorter, plumper woman sitting nearby. "Mr. Potter, this is Mafalda Hopkirk, Director of the Improper Use of Magic Department."

The woman sitting nearby hopped up in embarrassment and quickly moved over to Harry's side. "Oh, Mr. Potter, I'm so sorry for all of this. We don't know what's going on with your trace, but we're working to figure it out now. Really, when we received the notification from your trace, we thought it was a mistake, but someone else must've had it filed ahead of us."

Harry blinked in surprise, staring between Madam Bones and Mafalda Hopkirk, who was now standing before him nervously wringing her hands. "Um…it's fine, I'm sure we can get this figured out."

"That is what we shall be attempting, Mr. Potter," Madam Bones replied with a nod, before leaning forward in her seat and steepling her hands just under her chin, her elbows resting on her desk. "Now, then, Mr. Potter, would you kindly explain what happened yesterday at about four o'clock in the evening."

Harry nodded back at the director of the DMLE and took a beat to compose himself before speaking.

For the next few minutes, Harry explained his situation as best as he could. He brought up as many details as he could think of that would be useful to Madam Bones in helping her understand his plight. Though it embarrassed him, he even included that he had been trying to sleep when Tonks had knocked on his bedroom door, but had only been fitfully wrestling between nightmares of the Triwizard Tournament and of Voldemort's resurrection. At that realization, Tonks made a soft and long 'oh' sound, as though some sudden realization had just hit her.

The whole time Harry spoke, Madam Bones kept her hawkish eyes on him, listening closely. Beside her, Mafalda Hopkirk was busily writing his testimony down, frowning to herself over it all. At the mention of Tonks at his door, her eyes narrowed, and her gaze shifted over to Tonks for a moment, before turning back to settle on Harry again. She listened intently to the rest of his story, and when he was done, she frowned and slowly leaned back in her seat, her mind turning the information over.

"Well, then," Madam Bones slowly murmured, her eyes opening to lock onto Harry once more, "by your account and Auror Tonks' account, it seems clear that it wasn't you who cast those spells, nor are you deserving of any reprimand for them being cast, at least by my book."

Harry sighed with relief—then bit his tongue as Madam Bones held up a hand to silence him.

"However," she continued, "that won't be good enough for Minister Fudge, unfortunately. As it stands now, it is merely your word against the word of the Ministry, and right now you are in no position of favoritism with the Ministry to win that fight. And even though the spells were nothing but harmless housekeeping charms, I have no doubt that Fudge would try and twist it around as an example of how flagrant and reckless you are."

"That's bullshite!" Tonks spat out.

Madam Bones arched an elegant eyebrow upwards but nodded. "Crude, but yes, Auror Tonks, you are correct in that assessment. Now, as it stands, Mr. Potter, you'll still likely be forced to stand trial, and as such you will have an uphill battle to do so. You'll win, but not before your name is likely dragged through the mud. However, we can cut this off before it even gets to a trial if you're able to prove your innocence completely."

"Well then let's prove my innocence!" Harry replied, nodding his head firmly. "Whatever we need to do to prove it, lets do it! I'll even drink that veritaserum potion Snape threatened me with last year."

"As much as I like your resolve, Mr. Potter, the fact is that veritaserum can be easily overcome if the user knows that they have been given the potion. The same could be said for a memory—it can be easily manipulated, and while I doubt you could do so, it would certainly be an argument the Minister might use." She frowned and removed her monocle, cleaning it with a piece of cloth. "No, in this case, you'd need another witness besides yourself."

"Another witness? What about me?" Tonks asked.

Instantly, Madam Bones' piercing stare was latched onto Tonks, and the metamorph froze, wondering if she'd said something wrong. "Actually, Auror Tonks, your testimony would certainly go a long way towards helping young Mr. Potter out of his situation, but there is a problem. There is no plausible explanation given as to why you were there to begin with. And unless you give us that reason, we cannot use your testimony."

Tonks froze, silently swearing to herself. Though she hadn't actually been sworn into secrecy by a magical bond, she had a good feeling that telling her employer that she worked off-time for a shady anti-terrorism organization would probably not go over so well. That, and it could also potentially endanger some of the other members of the Order—while she had no doubt Madam Bones could keep the secret, the Order had already been theorizing about who in the Ministry might be allied with Voldemort already, and she didn't want that information getting into their hands.

Frowning, she chanced a glance over at Harry, and noticed the young man staring back up at her. Since entering the room, he had put on a good strong presence and spoken calmly with the director of the DMLE. All through his explanation of the events of the previous day, he had been sure to stay calm and to hold back his anxiety. And yet, as she stared at him, she saw that mask chip for just a second. And under the mask, she saw hope and fear all at once.

Tonks sighed, looking away.

She couldn't let him down.

"If you need the truth, Madam Bones," Tonks began slowly, as she began her response in her head, before a light flashed on, and she smiled, "I was asked to visit Harry by my cousin, Sirius Black, Harry's godfather."

Tonks had to hold back her laugh as she saw Madam Bones sit up quickly and blink in surprise, though not with any fury in her face over the pink-haired auror interacting with a known felon. Tonks had mentioned in multiple accounts already how she felt the conviction of Sirius Black was wrong and unjust, and Madam Bones had concurred. Tonks, though, believed that might have more to do with the two's history as very, _very_ close friends than any evidence Tonks could scrounge up, which so far was none sum.

"Sirius asked you to check in on Mr. Potter?" Madam Bones inquired.

"Yeah, he sent me an owl a couple weeks ago after the Triwizard Tournament," Tonks replied calmly, working off of years of lying and sneaking to make this work. "He was worried about how Harry was coping with all that he'd experienced during that year, and he sent me see how Harry was doing. That's also why I asked for this vacation time—I wanted some time off to help Sirius with watching Harry."

In the most technical sense possible, this wasn't actually a lie. Yes, Tonks had been asked to keep an eye on Harry, and yes, Sirius had asked her to check up on him and to let him know that his godfather was concerned. However, she wasn't true about when she had made those promises, or to who, either. It was a plausible truth she could fall back on if it came to veritaserum, but true enough that it got the message across.

And Madam Bones bought it. With a nod, she sighed and leaned back into her seat behind the desk, folding her hands under her chin again. "Well, that certainly counts as a reason for being there. Of course, it could pose some problems by itself, with your involvement being because of Sirius Black, but I don't suppose I could try and keep that from possibly getting into the official records."

Mafalda Hopkirk's eyes widened, and she gasped as she looked over at Madam Bones. "Director Bones, you can't be serious! Tampering with official records?"

"If it means keeping one of my best Aurors out of trouble with the Minister and his lackeys, I'd do more than tamper if need be," Madam Bones replied, before turning back to Tonks and Harry, "Though only if they have good reason for that tampering. This situation seems to count."

Mafalda frowned, before sighing and nodding. Then, dusting off her robes, the plump witch stood up from her seat again and moved over so that she was beside Harry and Tonks once more. "Well then, I won't say anything about it I suppose—now then, if you have what you need for Mr. Potter's trial to be rescinded, Madam Bones, I believe it's time we sorted out this Trace debacle once and for all."

As she said this, the woman drew a dull grey orb of some kind and held it out before her. Drawing another item from within her robes—a long and slender wand—Mafalda reached out and tapped the orb with the tip of her wand. The orb seemed to shudder, before beginning to glow a faint blue and hover in place. Mafalda lowered her hand from the orb and let it hover in place for a few minutes, before turning to Harry and nodding.

"Now then, Mr. Potter, this orb is keyed into your Trace. It should activate once you use a spell, with the only exceptions being if you're in a high magic area, such as Hogwarts, Diagon Alley, the Ministry, or an old wizarding family's home. However, for some reason, Auror Tonks' spells came up as yours, which should not happen."

Harry nodded, though filing away the fact that he could use magic at Diagon Alley and at a wizarding household away for future use.

"So then," Mafalda continued, "with Madam Bones' permission, I shall activate a ward that will temporarily make this room emulate the environment of a muggle neighborhood. Then, I would like both of you to cast spells so that we can see how that affects the Trace."

Harry nodded again, this time a bit more unsure about it. It sounded quite a bit more confusing than what Mafalda was likely leading on, but he supposed that was likely just due to his own lack of knowledge. Not for the first time, he found himself wishing that he'd studied harder in Hogwarts, or that he'd taken Ancient Runes. It might've been easier not to, but he had a feeling that it could help with understanding a lot that he went through.

Unbothered by Harry's trepidatious response, Mafalda waved her wand slowly over the orb in a rigid, slicing motion, like she was cutting several slices off of the orb in her mind. Then, with one thrust forward, the orb glowed again, before filling the room with a pale blue light. It was bright for a moment, before fading down until it just looked as though everything in the room was surrounded by a faint, semi-transparent blue light.

"Alright," Mafalda nodded firmly back at the two of them, "Go ahead."

Nodding, Harry frowned and twirled his wand in his hand, before coming up with a quick and easy spell. "Wingardium Leviosa," he quickly stated, turning his wand on Tonks.

Tonksphadora gasped in surprise, and began to levitate. "Harry!" she shrieked, glaring at him as she kicked about in the air, though Harry noted that the glared didn't quite reach her eyes.

Over with Mafalda, the orb glowed blue once, signaling it had noticed the spell. Mafalda nodded and turned back to Tonks and Harry. "Very good, very good—now, Auror Tonks, you."

Harry gently set Tonks back down on the floor, shrugging lamely back at her. "It was the first thing that came to my mind, sorry Tonks," he replied quickly. Tonks, however, merely smiled in turn, which did not ease Harry's concerns.

"Oh, it's fine, Harry—especially once I do this—Expelliarmus!"

With a shout, Tonks pointed her wand out, but rather than at Harry's wand as he'd expected with that spell, she aimed her wand down at the ground, at Harry's feet. The effect was instantaneous, as the spell locked onto his shoe and pulled his feet out from under him, causing him to land with a thump onto the floor of the office.

Once more, the orb glowed blue.

Mafalda frowned, before pointing her wand back at the orb and rotating it around in slow circles, as if she were fiddling with a screw driver. Harry popped back up, frowning over at Tonks, though he couldn't help smiling in spite of himself. He supposed he deserved that.

"Odd," Mafalda murmured, drawing Harry out of his thoughts, "I can't seem to understand why it's picking up Auror Tonks' spells, but now there is no mistaking that it is. It must be malfunctioning for some reason."

"What can you do about it, Mafalda?" Madam Bones asked, frowning, though she kept her eyes on Harry and Tonks. She found their actions interesting…

"Nothing, unfortunately," Mafalda replied with a frown. "I had hoped that something small was going on, a mix up, but after looking at it closer now, it seems clearer that something has truly broken the Trace, causing it to malfunction. The only way to fix it would be to get Mr. Potter a new wand."

Harry froze and paled, remembering back to the graveyard just a month earlier. His wand had been his only reason as to why he had managed to escape being killed by Voldemort. The brother cores had kept him alive, and would likely continue to do so if he found himself in another situation like the one in the graveyard. And considering that Voldemort was back, that was still likely. So the idea of losing his wand didn't sit well with him.

Luckily for Harry, Madam Bones frowned and shook her head. "No, I don't think that's wise. Too many variables to worry about…can you delete his Trace, then?"

Mafalda looked stricken with shock. "D-delete it?"

Harry was in much the same boat, though he didn't say anything. "Yes, delete it," Madam Bones repeated, frowning over at Mafalda. "I don't want to have to go through this every time Mr. Potter or someone around him casts a spell, and considering it's broken, we have no idea what other complications it might pose. No, better to delete it, and trust that Mr. Potter won't be foolish with the freedom provided him."

As she said that, Madam Bones fixed Harry as stern glare, one that Harry quickly nodded back to, a bead of sweat rolling down the back of his neck. Tonks, beside him, smiled at the development, though inside her mind she was cheering excitedly. With the lack of restraints, the two of them could have much more fun together, if they were ever able to get out of this office, that is.

Mafalda looked between the three of them before sighing and nodding. "Very well," she replied, before turning back to the orb and pressing the tip of her wand against the orb's surface. "Delete…Harry Potter."

And at that exact moment, miles away, within Hogwarts Castle, a device on the Headmaster's table suddenly stopped working.

The first of many.


	7. Chap 7: Taking Care of Business

**Hey guys...I fucked up.**

**Alright, maybe I should be a bit lighter on myself here, but the fact remains that it took me almost three whole months to finally get around to updating To Date a Metamorph. For that, I'm really sorry. All I can say is that I lost my muse for a bit. Maybe I can blame this on the flamers and guest-hate reviews that I got fairly frequently that first month, but the rest is probably just laziness. However, I'm finally back, thanks to the support from some amazing followers that kept me going—now let's just see how long I'll be back for!**

**Now, before we get to the new chapter, I do have some housekeeping to get out of the way.**

**First, y'all who've been badgering me to change all of the Nyms and Nymphadoras in this story to Tonks' finally won. Earlier today I went through my master document and painstakingly replaced all of the Nyms and Nymphadoras that were unnecessary with just Tonks'. Eventually, that may change back to Nyms and Nymphadoras, once Harry and Tonks are dating, but for now she's just Tonks.**

**Second thing is that I may be picking up another story soon. I recently came across an interesting challenge while looking for more fanfictions to read. For those interested, it is the Loyal Pet Challenge by _timbarney110_. Essentially, when Harry escapes the Dursleys the summer before Third Year, he ends up picking up a poor cat that he decides to take along with him to the Leaky Cauldron and ends up making another familiar. Coincidentally, there's another Azkaban prisoner on the run right now, besides Sirius Black****—his cousin, Bellatrix Lestrange.**

**It's a fun idea, and I'm really looking forward to writing it, so keep your eyes open for any further announcements. And with that, I think it's time we get to the new chapter, at last.**

* * *

**Chapter 7: Taking Care of Business**

Mafalda Hopkirk sighed as the orb she was holding flashed once before suddenly dimming into a dull grey. She sniffed, shook her head, and then slipped her wand back into her robe, the orb into another pocket, and then turned back to Harry, Tonks, and Madam Bones.

"Alright, it's been done—Harry Potter's trace has been deleted," Mafalda stated, an almost tired and dejected tone in her voice. She glanced over at Harry and took on a bit of a more stern expression, folding her arms. "However, don't think this gives you the right to go wild with your magic, Mister Potter, you're still expected to follow the rules of the Statute of Secrecy. This is a show of faith and trust, and if you break it…"

She left the rest of the threat hanging in the air, her eyes narrowed on the young man. Harry was left to fill in the blanks himself, and being a fairly creative and intelligent individual, he could do so fairly easily. Despite her shorter stature, Harry couldn't help but take a small step back from the director and giving her a quick, earnest nod. The last thing he wanted was to provoke someone who could so quickly and easily get him expelled or imprisoned.

Madam Bones cleared her throat. "Thank you, Mafalda, I believe Mister Potter understands the situation he's in just fine."

Mafalda turned back to Madam Bones and nodded. "Yes, I suppose so," she replied, turning back to Harry and giving him a firm nod and a soft smile. "Please understand, Mister Potter, I'm sorry for your situation, and I hope we can work this out, but I also want to do my job well."

Harry quickly nodded back to her, giving the witch a nervous smile in return. "No, no, I get it. You do what you have to do."

"Too true, no matter how it pains me sometimes," Mafalda nodded back to him, before turning and straightening her robes. "Well, if that's all that you need from me, Madam Bones, I believe it would be best if I return to my department—no doubt, there is much to be done after this, we still need to find how Mister Potter's Trace was broken, and perhaps if there were any other cases of this…"

The head of the Improper Use of Magic Department continued mumbling her thoughts to herself as she wandered out of the Director's office, removing the orb from her robes once more and waving her wand over it as she went. Harry, Tonks, and Madam Bones watched her go, before turning back to each other. Madam Bones sighed and moved back behind her desk, sitting down and giving Harry a tired frown.

"I do apologize for that, Mister Potter," the Director sighed, "Trust me, we will figure this out, and keep it from needlessly escalating. Now then, let's discuss other matters…"

At this, the Director sat up tall in her seat and stared imperially back at them, her eyes narrowed. "—for starters, how and why are you in contact with, and I feel I must stress this once more, _convicted and escaped criminal_ Sirius Black, and why are you both so certain that he is not in fact a convicted criminal?"

For a moment, no one spoke, Harry and Tonks sharing a nervous glance. After all, this wasn't something that could be spoken about lightly—there was a reason why Sirius wasn't allowed out of Grimmauld Place, and forced to remain in his animagus form whenever he _was_ allowed out in public, such as during the Triwizard Tournament's final round last year. Finally, after a moment of silent conversation between the two of them, Harry sighed and turned back to Madam Bones.

"Madam Bones, can we trust you to keep what we're about to tell you a secret?"

The head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement raised an eyebrow and leaned over her desk, resting her chin on her interlaced fingers. "That's a dangerous thing to ask of someone like myself, Mister Potter, especially considering the subject of the secret."

"It is…" Harry admitted, "…but I can't tell you anything unless we know we can trust you with this."

Madam Bones glanced between the two of them for a moment, her eyes still narrowed. Interestingly, though Harry had cowered a bit under Mafalda Hopkirk's chiding remarks, the young man before her now showed no signs of wavering, and his bright emerald eyes locked on her own piercing gaze. Beside him, Nymphadora Tonks stood up a bit straighter as well, as though offering whatever support she could. The show of comradery would've brought a smile to the Director's face had the subject not been so dire.

As it was, all she did was lighten her piercing stare.

After a long moment of silence, Madam Bones finally nodded and lean back, giving the both of them a firm nod. "Very well then, if that is what it takes. Mister Potter, you have my vow that I will keep this discussion between the three of us a secret. Not a magical oath, of course—" she quickly added with a sharp nod, "—but as Auror Tonks can attest, my word is good, and I stand by it, unlike some here in the Ministry."

"That's true," Tonks nodded, giving him a small pat on the shoulder. "If Madam Bones gives you her word, you can trust her to keep it."

Harry frowned but slowly nodded, smiling thankfully at the pat on his shoulder. It helped to steady him, and he took a deep breath. "Alright then," he replied with a nod. "That's good enough for me, I guess." He took another moment to take a deep breath to settle his nerves, before looking back up at the Director still staring firmly back at him.

And so he began.

* * *

As Harry finally came to the end of his explanation close to an hour later, Director Amelia Bones sat still as a statue in her chair, her mind reeling. In the course of the past hour, many of the truths that she had held firmly to be unquestionable had been proven to be anything but that. And with the penseive sitting between them having shown true memories of what he said, there was no denying it.

By Merlin, she needed a drink.

"Well, Boss, now you know—" Tonks began, but she was cut off as Madam Bones leaned back from her desk, opened the draw of her desk, and pulled out a large bottle of firewhiskey. The witch quietly pulled out a glass, magicked up a large ice cube to sit in it, and then poured herself a hearty drink. Then, taking a long sip from the glass and tilting her head back to release a gasp of flame, she turned back to the two standing before her.

Tonks blinked. "Uh, Boss…aren't you the one that's always telling me we're not allowed to drink on the job?"

"Well, I think I'm allowed to bend my own rules when the situation suits it, Auror Tonks," Madam Bones sharply replied, leveling the pink-haired auror with a tired glare before sighing and returning the glass to her lips. "And after all that the two of you have told me today, and after everything I've seen, I think this situation more than suits it."

Tonks sighed, but in all reality she agreed with Madam Bones' thoughts. If it weren't for the fact that she'd been clued into most of what Harry had revealed over the past hour already, she would've likely been in the same state as the Department Head sitting across from them. As it were, she was simply astounded by how much she still _didn't _know, as well as more than a little turned on by what Harry had managed to do in his memories. I mean, slaying a Basilisk at twelve? Fighting off one hundred Dementors at once? And then there was all the madness that came about with the Triwizard Tournament last year.

If she hadn't been interested in Harry before, she certainly was now.

Madam Bones chose to focus on something very different. After taking another deep drink of the firewhiskey in her hand, the director sighed and looked back up at Tonks and Harry, sitting a bit taller in her chair. "Alright, let me see if I understand this…"

Madam Bones held up a hand, slowly ticking off the facts as she listed them. "Sirius Black wasn't actually a Death Eater, nor was he the Secret Keeper for the Potters, but he was Harry's oathbound godfather. Peter Pettigrew, however, was a Death Eater, and the Secret Keeper, and betrayed the Potters. He faked his death, setting up Sirius Black as the true criminal, and stayed in hiding as a rat until two years ago, when he escaped off to find and revive You-Know-Who, who he succeeded to resurrect during the Triwizard Tournament last year."

She glanced back up at Harry and raised a single eyebrow. "Am I understanding all of this so far?"

Harry shifted his weight back and forth between his feet as he felt the director's piercing stare on him, but he nodded simply in reply. "Yeah, that's about it. I mean, that's what you saw in the memories, and you and Tonks both already proved that they were authentic."

Madam Bones nodded silently to herself, before standing from her desk and slowly beginning to pace back and forth. "Well then, considering all that what you said is true, the situation we find ourselves in is quite dire, and made even more so due to Minister Fudge's attempts to hide his head in the sand and ignore any and all signs that You-Know-Who has returned. And considering the power-play he's been maintaining recently, there's little we in the DMLE can do currently about it."

"I was afraid you were going to say that," Harry said with a sigh, reaching up to rub his hand over his scar as he thought. His emerald eyes flashed behind his glasses, and he shot his gaze back up to the director. "What about Sirius, though? Is there anything you can do about that?"

At that, Madam Bones seemed to brighten just a bit, and she stood still for a moment. "That we can do—in fact, it's one of the few things that Fudge is giving us full liberty to look into, considering how convinced he is that all our troubles recently have just been the actions of Black. So long as we keep it under the guise of investigating Black in attempts to arrest him, I can probably have a few of my men working on trying to find what we can to prove Black's innocence."

"It would probably be a good idea to look into his trial," Tonks suggested, stepping up beside Harry and crossing her arms. "Sirius' told me a bit about what he remembers before being sent to Azkaban, and according to him it's all a blur—maybe we can find something in the trial documents that proves he wasn't in his right mind?"

"That's a good suggestion, Auror Tonks," Madam Bones replied, nodding to her subordinate with a firm smirk, before dropping it into a frown. "Another would be to get proof of Sirius Black having been Mr. Potter's oath-bound Godfather—if we have proof of that, perhaps the Potters' last will and testament, it would go a long way to proving that Black could not have been the one to betray Mr. Potter."

Harry blinked in surprise. "Wait, my parents had a will?"

Madam Bones nodded, quickly moving back to her desk and pulling out a few sheets of parchment, jotting down her thoughts as they came to her. "I'd assume so—you have to remember, Mr. Potter, your parents died during the war against You-Know-Who. Families were dying left and right, so people tried to have their affairs in order and up to date as much as possible. That would go double for yours, as well, being one of the most Ancient and Noble families in Great Britain."

Harry stared blankly back at Madam Bones, swallowing in a throat that felt more than a bit tight. "I had no idea…" he murmured. He wondered why no one had ever told him about this before. He'd been part of the Wizarding World for almost four years now, and had been with people who knew his parents closely. Why hadn't anyone mentioned a will to him until now?

Tonks, noticing Harry's shaken expression, stepped closer and placed her hand on his shoulder. "You'd probably be able to ask about it at Gringotts," she suggested with a soft smile. "The goblins may a bit ornery buggers sometimes, but if it's about your account, they'd be willing to help."

"And not just them," Madam Bones interrupted, looking back at them with a sharp stare. "Auror Tonks, since you are slightly more intimately connected to this situation, I'm assigning you on guard duty for Mr. Potter—between his memories and his proximity to both Black and You-Know-Who, he is principle for any cases we will be making to change things around here. As such, you are to keep a close eye on him, beginning with helping him procure evidence from Gringotts that proves Black's innocence."

Now it was Tonks' turn to be surprised, though hers quickly shifted into an elated excitement. Before, she had only been given a day to get to know Harry and have him fall for her—now, with Madam Bones' permission, she was going to be his personal bodyguard for at least a few weeks, maybe even months. How that would work around the Order's schedule, she would have to figure out at a later time, but at the moment Tonks just relished in the fact that her attempts to woo Harry would be a lot more often and, hopefully, a lot more intimate.

"You can count on me, Boss," she said with a sharp salute, smirking back at Madam Bones. "Is that all, then?"

The director looked up from her parchment and nodded, smirking firmly back at Tonks. "For now, that is all. You are both dismissed, though I will want whatever proof you can find before the end of the day."

"Will do, Bonesy!" Tonks replied, before looping her arm in Harry's and spinning on her heel, half-walking half-dragging the young man along and out of the office. "Come on, now, Harry, time to see if we can't save your godfather finally!"

Amelia Bones raised an eyebrow as she watched them walk out, before sighing and pulling her monocle off and beginning to polish it as she thought. She had a feeling that having the two of them together would probably be more trouble than good in the long run, but at the moment it was the best option. She had a few ideas of what Tonks might attempt with Harry during her time as his personal bodyguard, but those were only her assumptions.

Besides, she had more pressing matters to attend to.

Frowning, Madam Bones turned her attention to the parchment sitting on her desk before her. While most of her notes had to do with proving Sirius Black's innocence and the return of You-Know-Who, there were more than a few that pointed out Harry Potter's close proximity to all of it. Particularly in the case of You-Know-Who, Madam Bones had noticed that Mr. Potter had been involved in several attempts to resurrect You-Know-Who, two of which he had managed to prevent.

It couldn't be a coincidence. For one reason or another, Harry Potter was intimately connected to everything You-Know-Who had been attempting over the past five years. From an attempt to claim immortality using the Philosopher's Stone—with the assistance of a teacher at the school, which Amelia had not even remotely known about—to his resurrection last year, Harry had been there each time. But why? And for what reason?

Madam Bones frowned, before writing out a few messages and sending them out. It was time to start digging around, time to start finding answers to these questions she sought.

She doubted she'd like what she'd find.

* * *

One ride up the elevator, walk out the Ministry, and a gut-wrenching apparation later, Harry and Tonks found themselves standing in an alleyway nearby the Leaky Cauldron. Harry took a moment to lean against a nearby wall and still his nerves—he still wasn't all that used to apparation just yet—while Tonks had to stifle her own amusement at his plight.

"Oh come on, Harry, it wasn't that bad," she commented, smirking at her companion. "It does get better in time, and soon you'll be learning to do it yourself."

"Can't…wait…" Harry grumbled, looking up to shoot Tonks a half-hearted glare, which she merely laughed off.

"Seriously, I'm certain you'll be fine once you start it yourself," she suggested, before waggling her eyebrows and sidling up close beside him, pressing her bust against his arm and expanding her breasts slightly again. "And, if it helps, I can be your coach for it—be there for you if you need any help…"

Harry's glare quickly disappeared in a field of red as his face lit up with a fierce blush. The young man quickly looked away, coughing in embarrassment and shaking his head. "Um, thanks Tonks, I'll, uh, certainly think about it!"

Tonks laughed again before slipping her arm back into his and leading him out into the street again. Before they entered the Leaky Cauldron, she turned and waved her wand at Harry, casting a quick Notice-Me-Not charm over him—something that he greatly appreciated once they entered the building, as it was more than a bit crowded at the moment, and Harry wasn't in the mood to be bombarded by unwanted attention, especially considering how the Prophet was making him out to be.

Careful not to run into anyone or cause a scene, Harry and Tonks cut a quick path through the bustling crowds of shoppers and down the alley towards Gringotts. The goblins standing to either side of the enormous golden doors seemed to narrow their eyes on Harry and Tonks—clearly the Notice-Me-Not charm affected them differently than wizards and witches—but they made no move to stop them. Once inside, the Notice-Me-Not charm was dropped, and Harry breathed a sigh of relief.

For a moment.

And then he realized that he had no idea what to do next.

Harry had only been to Gringotts a few times in his life—once when he was eleven and newly introduced to the Wizarding world, and once when he was thirteen and was essentially living in the Alley. As such, he'd mainly only ever dealt with the general tellers, and had followed the general flow of passerby to do so. It had worked well enough at the moment, so he hadn't really bothered to learn any further details about the bank.

Now, though, he was having the sudden realization that he didn't quite know where he would have to go to learn about his parents' will. He was fairly certain that it wasn't something that he could just ask one of the general tellers about, but at the same time he had not a clue where else to go. And unfortunately for him, none of the goblins desks had any signs that, at the moment, made sense as to where he should go.

As if sensing his distress, Tonks stepped closer and spoke lowly. "Now then, Harry, since we're dealing with your family dealings, it's probably best to speak to your family account's manager."

The pink haired auror scanned the surrounding tellers and desks for a moment before nudging him with her elbow and nodding towards a booth along the right side of the room. There, sitting behind the desk, was an older grey-skinned goblin who was reading over a large tome and scratching notes into the margins with a white quill. Nearby was a sign that read 'Account Managers'.

"That should be it," Tonks stated confidently, before taking Harry's arm and leading him along.

As they approached the booth, the old goblin slowed his notetaking, his beady black eyes staring down at them from over the edge of his narrow spectacles. The look it shot them was more than a bit intimidating, but Tonks stood her ground as she stared back into the goblin's eyes, only dropping connection to read his name from the nameplate at his desk.

"Greetings, Teller Gricksnap," she stated crisply, "Mr. Harry Potter is here to view his parent's last will and testament, and has allowed me to accompany him."

Gricksnap sat up a little straighter, and his cold and piercing gaze shifted over to Harry. "Really, has he now?" the goblin asked, his voice coming out thin and raspy, like wind passing through a dead tree's branches. "Well then, I shall see if his account manager is available for a meeting."

"Please do," Tonks replied, her voice still the crisp tone as before, but taking on a slightly firmer edge, "we would like to ensure this is done as soon as possible—time is money, after all."

The goblin's face split into a grin at Tonks' reply, though to Harry it appeared much more like a fiendish snarl. "Well said, well said—I will be back in but a moment." With that, Gricksnap hopped down from his desk and walked back through a door behind him.

As soon as he left, Tonks turned back to Harry with a wink. "Lesson one about dealing with goblins, Harry—treat them with respect, but be firm. They respect strength, and are more willing to work with wizards and witches that present themselves confidently and self-assured than those that are anxious and nervous. Keep that in mind, and you will be fine."

Harry nodded, though the thought of not being anxious around the goblins only seemed to make him a bit more anxious than before. Before he could voice his concerns, however, the door Gricksnap had walked through opened again, and then another door that led to his desk from the main lobby, revealing the grey goblin standing there for them. "Account Manager Sharpclaw is ready to see you now," he stated, shooting them both a snarling grin.

"Thank you, Teller Gricksnap," Tonks crisply replied, grinning back at him.

Nodding back at Harry, Tonks took his arm and followed the old grey goblin back behind the desk and through the door he'd come from, leading into a hallway with rows of doors lining either side of them. Over each of the doors were nameplates made of some gleaming metal—perhaps gold, or perhaps bronze. They walked past about a dozen of them, each with rough-sounding goblin names etched on them, before they finally arrived at Sharpclaw's office.

"Right here," Gricksnap snarled, before turning and walking off, leaving Harry and Tonks alone. Harry and Tonks looked at each other for a moment, before Harry stepped forward and, after knocking on the door, walked in.

The office inside was a sight to behold. While the walls and ceiling of the room were of the same white marble that the rest of the bank was carved from, the floor was a smooth grey granite, and a large black stone desk was set in the center of the room. Sitting behind the desk was a slightly darker-skinned goblin than Gricksnap, his silvery hair pulled back behind him, and wearing a well-pressed suit of black. Behind the goblin was a rather imposing-looking longsword, and to either side of the sword were the heads of a pair of griffons, beaks open in mid-screech.

Sharpclaw's lips pulled back into a snarling smirk as Harry entered the room, and he crossed his sharp-clawed hands over each other on his desk. "Ah, Mr. Potter—at last, we finally meet."

Harry stared back at Sharpclaw—like Gricksnap, his eyes were cold and dark, and he could see a bit of an evil wit gleaming behind them. He wanted to shy away from such a piercing stare, but he instead stood firm, remembering Tonks' advice, and stared confidently back at him.

"Greetings, Account Manager Sharpclaw," Harry replied, parroting Tonks' greeting from earlier. "I have come to view my parent's last will and testament. I only recently learned of its existence, and I would like to see what it has to say for myself."

Through the corner of his eye, he saw Tonks smirking at his efforts, her arm still wrapped around his in a show of support.

Sharpclaw's smirk widened, and the old goblin nodded to Harry. "I see, I see…and, I suppose your mate is here as well for that?"

At that, all composure and confidence Harry might've held disappeared like air escaping a popped balloon. This time, both Harry and Tonks blushed brightly, with Harry quickly and awkwardly trying to speak for himself. "Wha—no, no, Tonks isn't—she's not—"

"I'm his bodyguard," Tonks finally stated, her voice turning crisp and clear once more as she stared back at the sharp-clawed goblin. "I'm merely here to accompany him for his protection."

Sharpclaw's eyes narrowed at Tonks' words, and the metamorph felt as though the goblin was staring just a bit too closely at her—as though it could see something that she could not—before he finally looked away with a soft click of his tongue. "Well, very well then. However, before we get to your business, Mr. Potter, I have some business with you."

Harry blinked in surprise. "You have business with me?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. "Uh, what sort of business."

"Well, Mr. Potter," Sharpclaw drawled, before reaching into his desk and slamming down a large folder filled with papers. "To be precise, we have nearly fourteen years' worth of account notifications, deal requests, and pending business ventures that have gone unanswered and unrecognized. All of which you are wholly accountable for, and as they are tied to your account, come with the necessary fees and punishments."

"What?!" Harry exclaimed, standing up quickly. Tonks nudged his side firmly at his exclamation, and he grimaced before calming himself down, slowly. When he was calm, he asked again. "What do you mean, punishments? I didn't even know I had any of these."

"By punishments, I mean certain limitations and penalties placed on your account due to how late it took you to respond to our summons," Sharpclaw replied with a nasty sneer. "We've been sending you these notifications for the past fourteen years, but seeing as neither you nor your magical guardian have done anything to respond to them, we are forced to punish you and make our proper claims."

Harry's eyes widened as what Sharpclaw stated came to him suddenly. "Wait, hold on—I've never received any mail from Gringotts before. Not even after I opened my trust account back in my first year at Hogwarts. There must be some mistake."

Sharpclaw frowned, standing up a bit. "Gringotts does not make mistakes, Mr. Potter—"

"Well they must've this time, because I swear that I have never received a single message from Gringotts in my entire life. And, whoever my magical guardian is, has never mentioned it to me, either." Harry was standing firmly now—though shaken by the revelation of this situation, he did not like people claiming he was a liar, or claiming he was in the wrong when he knew he was in the right.

For what it mattered, his firm tone seemed to get through to Sharpclaw, as the old goblin blinked at Harry's response, before frowning and nodding. "Well then, perhaps we'll have to look into this ourselves…if you truly did not know, they you truly are not at fault…we'll have to look into this…"

Nodding, Sharpclaw quickly wrote down a note, before pricking it with his claw. The note burst into flames on his desk, before shriveling up into nothing. "Alright then," Sharpclaw sighed, looking back up at Harry and Tonks with a smirk. "You wanted to see your parents' will, correct?"

"That's right," Harry replied with a nod, a bit of his eagerness slipping out. Again, Tonks nudged him.

Sharpclaw grinned back at Harry, before opening another drawer on the desk and pulling out another folder—this one much more slim and less intimidating-looking. The goblin flipped the folder open and set it down on the table, spinning it around so that it was facing towards Harry. Harry stared down at the folder for a moment, before reaching down and picking up the paper it held.

"'The Last Will and Testament of James Charlus Potter and Lily Potter ne Evans'," Harry read aloud, his voice getting a bit weak as he did. Tonks slipped her arm out of his and moved it around his back, holding him closer and helping to support him as he read the paper.

Harry didn't dare read aloud—he doubted he'd be able to handle it if he did. What he read, though, brought him to tears as well as turned his world upside down. He knew his parents had left him an inheritance, but just how much had been unknown until now. As it turned out, he owned a few homes—according to Sharpclaw, though, only one was still in one piece—and a rather nice percentage of Diagon Alley and the Prophet. Not enough to make any major changes, but enough that he could probably have a bit of a say in what was printed.

More, though, he found how much they loved him. The messages included specifically for him in the will were sweet and tender and filled with love. He'd always wondered how his parents had loved him, but the way they'd written to him in the will, the way they'd shared their hopes and dreams for him, brought tears to his eyes that he struggled to hold back before the goblin account manager.

Sighing, Harry blinked his tears away as he finally got to what they'd come for. "There it is," Harry finally sighed, turning the paper to Tonks. "Signed by my mother and father, 'Oath-bound Godfather—Sirius Black'."

Tonks grinned back at Harry, reading the paper herself, before looking back at Sharpclaw and setting the paper back down on the desk. "Is there any way that we can get a copy of this to take with us? It's important."

"I assumed it was important, you didn't need to say it," Sharpclaw replied, though he quickly extended one of his sharp claws over the desk to the paper and pressed the claw down on the document. In a shimmer of magic, the paper glowed, before seeming to split in two, becoming two separate pieces of paper, identical. Sharpclaw nodded and took one, placing it back into the folder. "There you go."

"Thank you," Tonks replied, taking the paper and slipping it into her bag, before reaching over and wrapping her arm around Harry's once more. "That will be all for now. Thank you, Account Manager Sharpclaw—may your dealings always bring you gold, and may those that aim to cheat you be brought low by your blade."

The goblin grinned at Tonks' words, and he nodded in turn. "And may you both find profit and pleasure in all that life brings you," he snarled, before standing and leading them to the door. "Until next time."

Harry nodded in reply, letting Tonks walk ahead and lead him out. As soon as they left Sharpclaw's office, Gricksnap appeared, his snarled grin looking up at them as he turned and led them back down the hallway towards the exit. After a similar exchange of pleasantries as they had with Sharpclaw, Harry and Tonks walked back out of the lobby and out into the front steps of Gringotts.

Once outside, Tonks glanced over at Harry and gently rubbed his arm. "You gonna be good, Harry?" she asked.

Harry nodded slowly, surprised by Tonks' perceptiveness. "Yeah…yeah, I'll be fine. It's just…nice to know, now, you know? Know that…they really cared for me, and they wanted so much for me…it's…it's kind of bittersweet, you know?"

Tonks nodded—though she couldn't fully understand what Harry was feeling, she knew enough to sympathize with him. The paper they were holding had revealed a lot about Harry's parents and the life they'd hoped for him than Harry had likely ever known, and that alone was something to bring both joy and tears to anyone's life.

Shaking her head, Tonks grinned at Harry and started walking down the bank's steps. "Well, enough about that—we've got the will, and a lot of time to kill until I gotta get this back to Bonesy, so why don't we hit up the Alley a bit? Have some fun, why don't we?"

Before Harry could reply to Tonks' sudden shift in mood, the pink haired auror was already dashing off to the nearest stores and cafes, dragging him along behind her.


	8. Chap 8: Make the Escape

**Ah, it feels good to be back!**

**Hello everyone, it's me, the Lonely Lorekeeper! Back again with a new chapter of To Date a Metamorph, and today, we start really pushing things along. Now, this is the longest chapter I've written yet, and I'm feeling pretty proud for how it turned out. Seriously, this was actually a lot of fun to write, and it feels good to have my muse back and helping me write the fics that y'all seem to enjoy just as much as I do.**

**Also, before I go, I just want to thank all of you for the messages and reviews y'all have been sending me...well, most of the reviews. The reviews that just say 'update immediately' and what have you give me as much pleasure as getting a paper back from my English teacher with the only notes being 'it needs more work done'. However, those of you that give me these fun little comments that make me laugh, or fill me with joy to see them, they really make my day, and make it a lot of fun to write these, because I get to see how all y'all are enjoying the fic as well. So, to all of you who do that, thank you so much—it's because of you that I write.**

**Now then, on with the chapter!**

* * *

**Chapter 8: Make the Escape**

For the next few hours, Tonks dragged Harry back and forth through the Alley, hoping to both put him back into a good mood after the slight downer of having to read his parents' last words to him as well as spend more time with the boy she had her eyes set on. She, of course, remembered to cast a quick glamour spell over him so that he wouldn't be noticed by the general masses—it was a better option than trying to shop as a completely unnoticeable person—which Harry was very thankful for.

Actually, there was a lot about their trip to Diagon Alley that Harry was thankful for. He had to admit that he really enjoyed spending time with Tonks, and the metamorph beside him always seemed to know just how to brighten his mood after the rough meetings he'd had that day.

Their first stop had been to the nearby Quidditch store, mostly just to window shop and glance over the newest products. This had, of course, led to Harry and Tonks sharing stories about playing for their Hogwarts teams—as it turned out, Tonks had been a Chaser for Hufflepuff, and would've been on the team in his first year had she not been busy studying to join the aurors after graduation. Harry, for what it was worth, was more than willing to see how well Tonks did on a broom compared to him the next chance they'd get.

"Just as long as I can ride your broom when I do it," Tonks had replied with a wink.

Harry, unfortunately, had no good response to give her besides blushing in embarrassment and trying to move the conversation away from any further innuendos—a task he quickly found to be surprisingly hard when talking about Quidditch, something that brought endless mirth to the metamorph beside him, and endless embarrassment for the boy-who-lived himself.

His embarrassment had not ended at the Quidditch store, as Tonks found ways to tease him everywhere they went. Still, the shopping trip went well by Harry's account, stopping by clothing stores ("Can't have you wearing that baggy rubbish, now can we?"), Flourish and Blotts for some new defense books ("Be easier on me as your bodyguard if you can also defend yourself."), and even a nearby shop that specialized in glasses for wizards ("How could you even see through those old ones, anyway?").

When all was said and done, the two found themselves sitting outside of Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour, enjoying two large sundaes after the long afternoon. Harry was wearing a new sharp pair of glasses, and he couldn't help but look around in awe every once in a while, surprised by how crisp his vision was for the first time in what had likely been years.

Tonks smirked as she watched, slowly eating her own sundae across from him. "I told you those glasses were a good idea," she stated matter-of-factly.

Harry turned his gaze back to Tonks, his emerald eyes gleaming behind the sleek windows of glass, and he shot her a sheepish smile. "Yeah, I guess you did," he chuckled softly, shaking his head. "Sorry, it's just…either this is a different prescription, or the magic is just _that good_, because everything looks so clear, it's just…" He shook his head again, unable to find the words.

"Maybe it's a bit of both?" Tonks suggested, quickly hiding her blush behind her abilities as his gaze turned back to her. The glasses would do a lot of good to him in everyday life, of course, but they also helped to make him look much more mature, with almost a roguish quality to him. It was taking all that she had not to just leap across the table and take him right there, the way he was looking at her.

"Maybe…" Harry replied with a shrug, shooting Tonks another sheepish grin. His gaze then drifted back down to his sundae sitting before him, and he slowly stirred it as he thought, before looking back up at Tonks and raising an eyebrow. "Hey, uh, Tonks? Can I ask you something?"

Tonks looked back up at Harry and she calmed herself down, forcing her blush away. "Yeah, Harry? Go ahead."

Harry took another moment to think, his gaze drifting back down to the bowl of ice cream and chocolate syrup that was quickly turning into a melted mess, before he finally glanced back up at her and took a soft, almost nervous breath. "Why…why are you doing all of this?"

Tonks was surprised by Harry's question, but before she could ask what exactly he meant, he quickly continued. "I mean, why are you doing all of this to help me? I mean, you helped me out with the Statute problem this morning, yeah, but you also helped out with getting the ball rolling to prove Sirius' innocence, helped me work with the goblins in Gringotts—heck, you even helped me get better glasses, but…why? And don't say it's because it's your job, or because of the Order, because I don't see anyone else who's tried to do that yet."

For a moment, Tonks was silent as she pondered over Harry's words. She did have to admit that, from an outside view and with no idea of her true intentions with him, her actions could be seen as very surprisingly altruistic. And, considering his upbringing, that could be a sign for concern. At the same time, though, his questions brought a small smirk to her lips. Perhaps it was time she teased out a bit of her true intentions for him, as well as perhaps giving another try to seduce him again.

Giving him a small smirk, the metamorphmagus leaned closer to him across the table, her breasts swelling slightly as she let them hang over the table, and she reached out to slip her hands over his. "It's like I said before, Harry," she murmured softly, her eyes locked on his, "I'm here to take care of you…in every way possible~"

Her leg slowly moved under the table to gently rub against one of his, causing the young man to jump slightly in his seat. And yet, Harry's eyes did not leave Tonks'. She could feel his pulse racing in his hands, and in his vivid emerald eyes, she could see that Harry was beginning to understand what Tonks wanted. "T-Tonks…" Harry stuttered in reply, more shocked than anything else.

"Yes, Harry~?" Tonks asked, smirking as she slowly leaned closer, her eyes slowly drifting down towards his lips. To her surprise, and most sincere pleasure, she noticed he wasn't backing away, and actually seemed to slowly move closer to her as well.

Unfortunately, their moment came to an end far too soon for either's liking.

Before either were close enough to even just brush their lips against each other in a ghost of a kiss, a nearby clock tower began to ring slowly, the bells bellowing out four distinct chimes. Tonks froze, and she quickly sat upright, pulling away from Harry so quickly that she almost knocked him over. She wanted to apologize, but instead turned and threw up a hurried Tempus spell.

"Shit!" Tonks swore, before whirling back to Harry, her hair flashing from a soft lavender to an anxious orange so quickly they almost blinded him. "It's already four! We need to get back to Privet Drive, now, before anyone finds out we were gone!"

Harry, now recovered from the almost-kiss, stood up from the table, looking back at Tonks in concern. "Wait, what? Before who finds out?"

"The other Order members, Harry!" Tonks snapped back, looking more and more frantic as she quickly gathered up their bags and lunged over to take his hand. "They don't know I'm doing this—technically speaking, we're not supposed to interact with you until a month or so before school starts. We have to get back before anyone finds out and both of us are in serious trouble!"

Before Harry could ask another word, Tonks pulled him close against her and twirled on the balls of her feet, disapparating away from Diagon Alley and back to Privet Drive, apparating with as silent a crack as possible into the Dursley's backyard. Once more, Harry stumbled a bit as he stepped out of the teleportation, but he did note that he didn't feel as queasy as he had before, so Tonks' advice from before had likely been true.

"Hurry, Harry, get inside before anyone notices," Tonks hissed, passing him the bags, but also gripping his wrist before he could get to far. "This isn't over, by the way. I will be back, sooner rather than later."

Harry glanced back at Tonks in surprise, before slowly pulling away and shooting her a nervous smile. "I hope so," he replied, before turning and quickly dashing back into the house. "I'll get the will to Madam Bones for you, by the way," he called back, holding it up, "Hedwig can handle the flight, I think, don't you?"

Tonks watched him go, her heart pounding—now for two very different reasons, though—and her hair started to bleed back into its usual pink color as a self-satisfied smile slipped onto her face. Sighing, the witch turned and quickly whipped the invisibility cloak out from her moleskin pouch once more, swept it over her head and shoulders, and dashed out over the fence towards the tree in the front yard where, of course, Mr. Weasley was already waiting.

The older wizard was trying to look as inconspicuous as possible, but it was clear that the more he waited for her to arrive, the more uneasy he got, and the more he began to nervously pace about. It looked as though he was about to cast a spell at the house—perhaps to see if something had happened—when Tonks rushed up to him, her heart still pounding in her ears from her mad dash.

"Wait, hang on Arthur! I'm here, I'm here!"

Mr. Weasley lowered his wand and shook his head. "Oh, Merlin's beard, Tonks! You're almost five minutes late, I was worried something had happened. It's Phoenix Feather, by the way."

"No, nothing's wrong, don't worry," Tonks shook her head as well, shrugging off the cloak and passing it to him. She straightened her shirt, and a faint blush of embarrassment spread across her face as she looked back at the older wizard beside her. "Sorry, I guess I sort of just lost track of time…"

Mr. Weasley passed Tonks a knowing smile and slowly nodded. "Don't worry Tonks, I understand." Tonks froze, almost afraid he had caught onto her, but his next words calmed her back down again. "I know this job isn't exactly the most exciting, and considering you took three consecutive shifts, I'm really not surprised. Don't worry, I won't tell anyone back at Headquarters that you nodded off during your shift, but try to be more alert next time, or at least don't take so many in a row!"

Tonks breathed out a relieved sigh and nodded. "Thanks, Arthur, I'll definitely keep that in mind," she replied, giving the older wizard a smile before stepping back and allowing him to pull on the invisibility cloak himself. "I'll see you around Headquarters—good luck Harry Watching!"

As Arthur gave Tonks an invisible nod back in reply, Tonks turned and quickly made her way back down the road towards Arabella Figg's house, and the apparation point they'd set up behind her hedges. Spinning on her heels once more in the center of the spiral-ridged apparation circle, Tonks disappeared in a sharp snap and reappeared moments later on the front step of Grimmauld Place, safely hidden from view behind the boundary line of the Fidelius Charm.

Taking a moment to compose herself, Tonks straightened herself up and reached up to ring the doorbell. She then immediately remembered why, exactly, no one ever rang the doorbell, as beyond the door she could hear the slightly muffled screeching of Aunt Walburga's painting, and Sirius shouting up a storm of swearwords to match it.

"Oh, for Merlin's sake!" Sirius shouted, swinging the door open and shooting a glare at whoever was on the front step, in this case Tonks. "Nymmie, dammit, what the bloody hell? You're supposed to knock, you know this! Come on, get in, get in!"

"Sorry Sirius," Tonks murmured, a bit too embarrassed to get annoyed at him using _that name_ with her, "I guess I'm just not in the right mind at the moment."

Sirius seemed to perk up a bit at those words, and an expectant look crossed his face. "Oh? Is something wrong? Something to do with Harry?"

Before Tonks could say anything, Walburga's painting seemed to shriek even louder than before, and Sirius growled before turning and charging up to her, shouting back at his mother's painting. Sighing, Tonks slipped into the entrance hall—keeping a very close eye on that troll-leg-umbrella-stand the entire time—and walked out into the main foyer and living room, trying to block out the sound of Sirius and his mother's shouting match.

"Wotcher, all!" she called out as she looked around. The only other people she could see were the Weasley twins, sitting on the large couch going over some of their newest gadgets, and Hermione and Ginny.

Hermione was the first to really notice her, and she sat up to pass the auror a smile. "Hey Tonks, welcome back. How's Harry doing?"

"How's she supposed to know, Hermione?" Ginny suddenly cut in, frowning, "They're not allowed to talk to him, remember."

"No, we're not allowed to talk to him," Tonks agreed, frowning at the youngest Weasley child, before turning her gaze back to Hermione and smoothing her expression into a knowing smile. "But, from what I was able to see of him, it seems like he's doing alright. He seemed a bit depressed though—he probably misses you all."

She then winked subtly at Hermione, and the brunette smiled warmly back at her, getting the silent message shared between the two of them. "Well, I'm glad to hear it, at least…though, I wish he could get here sooner. It just doesn't seem right, leaving him there all alone in his misery."

"I know what you mean," Tonks nodded, slipping her hands into her pockets, "but I'm gonna see what I can do about that—speaking of, has anyone seen Dumbledore? I need to speak with him for a minute."

Though her main plan was to have Harry fall for her and have him to herself, she also had her duty as an auror to uphold, which meant ensuring Harry's safety as she had promised Madam Bones earlier that day. And after what she'd seen while with Harry, from his poorly-maintained bedroom and the series of locks and bolts on his door, and of course the scars she'd seen as he'd been changing, she was certain that the Dursleys house was in no way a safe place for him to stay. Grimmauld Place was probably the safest place to take him, but to do so, she'd need to convince Dumbledore to go along with it.

Hermione frowned and set her book to the side as she thought. "No, I can't say that I've seen him yet today, or at least not recently, I don't think." She shrugged and glanced back up at Tonks, giving her a patient smile. "I mean, if nothing else, you can always just try and floo his office, see if he's there."

"I can't imagine he'd be anywhere else," Ginny suggested, not bothering to look up over the edge of the couch. "I mean, that's where he'd be if he's not here—with You-Know-Who back, he's not going to do much sitting around. He's either at the school, or here, doing what he can."

"Good point," Tonks said, though a bit bitterly. She had hoped to possibly catch him at Headquarters, that way there would be others around to help support her with what she had to say. If she spoke to him one-on-one, she had a feeling that he would either not listen, or just talk over her on the situation. Still, she needed to do this, or at least try to do this, to help Harry. So, with a shrug of defeat, the pink-haired auror turned and walked over to the nearby fireplace, grabbing a handful of dust from the floo dust container on the mantle.

"Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Headmaster's Office," she stated clearly, and then tossed the handful of floo dust into the fire. Instantly, it burst into a flare of bright emerald flames, and after a minute she could hear a voice calling back over to her from the other side.

"Yes, hello? Who's there?" the warm voice of Dumbledore called out.

"Wotcher, Professor, it's Tonks," Tonks called back to him, kneeling at the fire so that she could get a better reception. As she did, the face of Albus Dumbledore appeared in the flames before her, a bemused smile on his face. "I'm at Headquarters, sir, I was wondering if you would have time for a talk."

"Of course, Nymphadora, I always have time to talk," Dumbledore replied, unaware of how Tonks' hair had briefly flashed red around the roots for a moment as he used _that name_ with her. "Why don't you come through—my back's not what it used to be, my dear, and I don't think I'd be comfortable having a conversation bent over the fireplace like this."

Tonks bit her lip in frustration. "I've told you before, Professor, it's just Tonks. And actually, sir, I was sort of hoping that you would come over here, and we could talk here at Headquarters."

"I'm afraid I can't, Nymphadora," Dumbledore stated, breezing right past her correction and smiling bemusedly back at her through the flames. "I simply have too much to do back at my office—I was actually in the middle of checking over something when you called, so I'm afraid I can't come through just yet."

Tonks sighed—it was clear that there would be no convincing him to move this conversation into her playing field. She shuffled her feet anxiously as she silently debated what to do, before mentally groaning and standing back up again. "Okay, fine, I'll come over—back up from the fireplace, now, I'm coming through!"

Dumbledore's smiling faced nodded back to her before disappearing from the emerald flames again, leaving Tonks to herself. Sighing, she shook her head before taking a bounding step into the fire and straight through the hearth. She shivered, feeling a faint queasy feeling that came with floo travel, before tripping and almost falling out the other side onto the hearth of the Headmaster's office at Hogwarts.

Dumbledore, the wizened wizard that he was, shot a beaming smile at her as she passed through the flames and caught herself on the mantle. "Careful there, Nymphadora dear, that first step is always a doozy."

Tonks rolled her eyes, the roots of her hair tinting an angry scarlet once more, though she tried to hold it back. "I noticed, Professor," she murmured, stumbling over to take a seat across from him. "Now then, Professor Dumbledore, I was wondering—"

"Care for a lemondrop, Nymphadora dear?" Dumbledore interjected, gesturing to a small jar of yellow-colored candies sitting on his desk.

Tonks blinked. "Um, no thank you, Professor."

Dumbledore shrugged and picked a single sour candy from the jar. "Very well then, more for me I suppose."

"If I may, sir?" Tonks asked, quickly feeling agitated by how the old wizard was acting in this moment. Sighing, Tonks took a moment to collect herself before continuing. "I wanted to talk to you about Harry. I just got back from watching him for a full day, and I didn't like what I saw. He's in a really bad place right now, Professor, and being left in the dark like he is, away from those he cares about, isn't doing him any favors."

Dumbledore sighed and he crossed his hands over his desk. "And I assume you want him to come here, then? Nymphadora dear, I've been over this dozens of times already."

"It's Tonks, sir, just Tonks!" Tonks firmly interjected back. "And I know what you've said. Harry needs time to heal on his own, and because of his connection to the Great Tosser, it's best if he does that on his own, away from the rest of us. But you haven't seen him since you made that decision for us! He's hurting, Professor, a lot more than he would be if you'd just let him be here with his friends, and his godfather, and…"

She trailed off, noticing the twinkle in Dumbledore's eyes begin to dim, and he seemed to sit a bit stiffer in his seat. "Miss Tonks," he stated slowly, and his voice had lost a bit of the warmth from before, "I believe you watching Mr. Potter for twenty-four hours straight might've been a mistake. In fact, you seem a bit out of sort of it. It's concerning. I think it would be best, then, if you were taken off of the Harry Watch for the rest of the summer."

Tonks froze, and her hair snapped to white with shock. "Wait…you can't be serious?"

Dumbledore stood and shook his head. "I'm afraid I am, Miss Tonks. While your dedication is admirable, it seems you're almost too fixated on helping Mr. Potter that you can't see the bigger picture. You're so focused on caring for this one tree, that you've forgotten to pay attention to the entire forest fire around you. Cutting you off of Harry Watch would be the best solution for everyone involved."

He paused, and glanced back at Tonks with somber eyes. "I hope you understand."

Tonks, for her part, was once more a bright head full of flaming red hair, and she glared at Dumbledore as she stood from her seat as well. "No, actually, Professor, I don't understand. I don't understand how failing to help this one tree is going to make fighting the forest fire that much easier. I don't understand, and frankly, I think you are making a very, very big mistake."

With her piece being said, the red-haired metamorphmagus turned and strode back over to the fireplace, summoning up a pillar of green flames once more, and striding through and back to Grimmauld Place. Not once did she look back at Dumbledore again, who merely sighed and moved to sit back down at his seat and gently stroke his beard, frowning. Perhaps she had a point…perhaps she was right about leaving Harry in the dark.

His gaze drifted over to his gadgets and gizmos spinning and whirling on his desk—all except for the one bound to Harry's Trace, which he had been trying to fix since it had broken earlier that morning. He frowned and shook his head. No, he was doing the right thing, both in taking Tonks off the Harry Watch as well as keeping Harry in the dark. It was for his own good, as well as for the good of the rest of the magical world. He didn't have to like it for that to be true.

What he was doing had been and always would be for the Greater Good.

* * *

When Tonks returned to Headquarters, the living room was empty—the Weasley children and Hermione had likely been conscripted by Mrs. Weasley to clean even more rooms, leaving Tonks on her own. Tonks was thankful for the lack of people around, as it gave her a chance to let her boiling emotions break through the surface. She was angry at Dumbledore, worried for Harry, nervous and sad and angry all over again, to the point that when she returned she simply dropped into the nearest couch and curled in on herself.

"Nymmie? Are you alright?"

It was at that moment that Tonks realized that she wasn't nearly as alone as she had first thought, and she paused to look up over the couch. Standing there, a warm cup of tea in hand, was Sirius, though he was looking considerably less jovial at the moment, casting a somber glance over his younger cousin.

Tonks sniffed, then realizing that she had started to cry, quickly rubbed out her tears before Sirius could hopefully see them. He still did, but he didn't say anything. "No, I'm not," she murmured, too upset to even think of correcting him. "I tried talking Dumbledore into letting Harry free of his isolation, but that whisker-faced goat-fucker wont budge! Even when keeping him there is literally the worst thing he could do!"

"Worst thing he could do?" Sirius asked, blinking in surprise, before quickly moving around to sit beside Tonks on the couch, passing her the tea to help calm her nerves. "What do you mean, is Harry in trouble?"

"Not immediate trouble, no," Tonks replied with a sigh, taking a sip of the tea before continuing. "But it's still bad! Sirius, he's going crazy in there, cooped up all alone. Last night, I heard him crying and screaming from nightmares—it was terrible! And then there's the muggles, and how they treat him! Thank Merlin they were out of town for the week, I don't think what I would've done if they had been there, and I had been forced to watch them treat Harry so terribly!"

"Wait, back up," Sirius frowned, staring back at Tonks with a stormy expression. "What was that about the muggles?"

"It's terrible, Sirius," Tonks continued, shaking her head as she took another sip of the tea. "There's no signs that he even lives there—it's like they're trying to ignore he even exists at all! He's stuck in this tiny bedroom, just a bit larger than a closet, maybe, and he lives in trash! Literally, the cousin's broken toys are thrown into that room, making it even harder to live in. And then there are the scars that I saw on his back—it looks like they beat him, or at least used to, for a long time."

"They did _what_?!" Sirius bellowed, thunder cracking in his storm-grey eyes.

"See?" Tonks exclaimed, gesturing to Sirius as she downed the rest of her tea. "It's not safe or right for him to be there! If I hadn't decided to sneak him out of the house, and then taken him Diagon Alley, I think he might've just snapped at any minute." She paused and sighed. "And I got so close to kissing him, too, and it looked like he wanted to kiss me too, but then I had to come back and…"

Tonks blinked, and she stared at the cup in her hands, then slowly up at Sirius. "What did you put in this tea, Sirius?"

Sirius took a step back from the couch, his face stony and expressionless. "Just a single drop of veratiserum and some mild babbling potion."

"Shit," Tonks mumbled, shaking her head and sighing. "I really should've seen that coming…constant vigilance, and all that…" Sighing, she looked up at Sirius and shook her head. "Alright, the real reason that I took all those shifts of Harry Watch is because I sort of fancy him, and wanted to try and see if I could do something about it. Happy now? You gonna turn me in to Dumbledore now, are you?"

Sirius froze as he looked back at Tonks, seeing tears starting to well up in her eyes again. "Whoa, no way, Nymmie! I just did that because I wanted to get some real information out of you about Harry. He's not the only one going crazy, after all—I haven't heard anything the whole time I've been here, and it's driving me up the walls insane. But I certainly wasn't expecting all of that, or that last part." He smiled, and reached out to rest a hand on Tonks' shoulder. "I'm on your side, cousin—Harry needs someone good to be there for him, and you fit that to the t."

Tonks blinked her tears away before shooting Sirius a small smile, lightly smacking his shoulder in return. "You're still a prat, Siri, but thanks…"

"Anytime, Nymmie," Sirius replied with a smile, before sitting back down and raising an eyebrow. "So, old Way-Too-Many-Names-To-Bother Dumbledore isn't going to let Harry free of that hellhouse?"

Tonks shook her head and let out a tired sigh. "No, he's not…even worse than that, though, is that he took me off of Harry Watch. If I could stop by and visit him every once in a while, it might be alright, but if I'm off that watch, then there's no chance of me doing that." She frowned again. "But, on the other hand, I've been specifically tasked to keep an eye on Harry by Bonesy, so it's not as if I can just not do anything about this, even without me wanting to do anything about this."

"Wait, what was that about Amelia?" Sirius asked, blinking.

"Oh, right," Tonks shook her head. "Part of that getting him out of the house today was a visit to the Ministry—I'll tell you about that later—and while we were there we managed to get Bonesy on board to try and get you acquitted." She smiled as she noticed Sirius' eyes light up. "She's getting a case together now, and since Harry is pretty important to that, she wants me to ensure his safety."

"Well, then," Sirius stated, shaking his head with a wolfish grin, "Looks like we've got a lot of reasons to try and get Harry out of that house, and over to someplace where he will feel safe, secure, and most importantly, loved." He shot a wink at Tonks as he said the last of that, causing her to blush in reply.

"Sounds like it," she replied, nodding.

Laughing, Sirius leaped to his feet and clapped his hands together. "Well then, it's been a long while since I got to flex my Marauder muscles—come on, let's see if we can't find a way to help Harry out."

Shooting his younger cousin another wide grin, Sirius turned and bounded out of the living room and towards the nearby library, and Tonks was quick on her heels behind him, a smirk on her face despite herself. Even after all that Dumbledore was trying to do to keep Harry in the dark, it was going to end by the end of the day. Soon, Harry would be free.

An hour later, Tonks dashed out of the library, the plan to get Harry free set in her mind. She made a quick stop over at Knockturn Alley to gather what she would need to make the plan work, and then spun on her heels and returned to the apparation point behind the hedges in Arabella Figg's front yard. She tripped as she hit the ground, but merely rolled up out of her trip and quickly marched her way across the street towards the Dursleys.

Arthur Weasley was still there out front, and as she approached he spun and held his wand out towards her, before slowly lowering it as he recognized her. "Tonks? What are you doing here again—wait, hold on, what's the password?"

"Phoenix feather, Arthur," Tonks replied, and a look of relief spread across Arthur Weasley's face.

"Oh good, it_ is_ you, Tonks," Arthur replied with a sigh, slipping his wand back into his robes. "For a second there, I thought something bad was going on…but again, I've got to ask, what are you doing here? Didn't you just leave almost two hours ago? Is something going on?"

Tonks shuffled, glancing up and down the street for a moment before looking back at Arthur. "Well, there is something going on, but I'm going to need you to be cool with it, alright? It's a bit hard to explain—wait, Arthur, what the hell is that?!"

Arthur spun on his heel again and drew his wand, searching for whatever had provoked Tonks' sudden outburst. Before he could see anything, though, Tonks hit him spell right between his shoulderblades that made his body lock up and knocked him out, making him fall over onto the grass outside Number 4 Privet Drive. Tonks sighed and stepped a bit closer to Arthur, waving her wand over his head to banish his memories of her being there, then grabbed his invisibility cloak and tossed it over him to hide him.

"Sorry, Arthur, don't have time to explain—and even if I did, I don't think you'd like what I had to say," she murmured, before stepping back and then quickly turning back to the Dursleys home. Glancing around once more for any onlookers, Tonks ran up to the backyard fence and made her way back inside.

"Wotcher, Harry!" Tonks called out, closing the back door behind her and leaning against it with a smile.

There was a sudden banging from upstairs, followed by a series of pounding steps, and in a flash, Harry was standing at the bottom of the stairs, a lopsided smile slipping onto his face. "Tonks! Hey, uh, what are you doing back here? Didn't you need to take off?"

Tonks smiled back at him and walked towards him. "Well, I did, but I came back because there's something I needed to do." There was an expectant look on Harry's face, and Tonks licked her lips—there would be time for what they both wanted later, though, so she stayed a bit back and crossed her arms under her bust and smirked back at him. "To be specific, I'm here to take you away from here."

Harry blinked in surprise. "Wait, seriously? But, didn't Dumbledore—"

"Oh, Dumbledore can go suck Merlin's saggy left testicle for all I care!" Tonks suddenly interjected, shaking her head for a moment, before stepping closer and taking Harry's hand in hers. "What I want to know is what you, Harry Potter, want. Do you want to stay here, alone in the Dursleys home? Or, do you want to come with me, and get away from this all?"

Harry stared at Tonks for a moment longer, his eyes moving from her face down her chest and arms to their hands holding each other. A faint blush spread across his face, and he felt his heart pounding louder in his ears. Rather than give her a verbal reply, Harry chose to answer to how he was feeling, and suddenly leaned forward, kissing Tonks on the lips so suddenly that the both of them were completely shocked by his actions.

A moment later, he pulled back and gave her a sheepish grin. "I'll be back with my things in a moment," he replied, before turning and quickly dashing up the stairs again.

Tonks watched him go, her metamorph abilities not even trying to hide the blush that spread across her face in that moment, as a sweet smile slowly spread across her lips. They were going to be having a lot of fun together once she got him free from this place, that much was certain—just feeling his lips on hers had sent tingles down her spine, and she wanted to feel more of it. Smirking, she turned and reached into her bag for what she needed to get him out.

As she was putting the last touches onto her plan, Harry dashed down the steps, his trunk trundling behind him. "Hedwig's in the process of getting my will to Madam Bones, so she'll meet us wherever we're going." He paused, noticing what Tonks was doing, and blinked rapidly. "Uh, Tonks? What's…that?"

What he was referring to was the large mannequin that she had set up in one of the dining room chairs, and had been carefully etching runes and symbols into with the tip of her wand. It had no face, and actually looked more like one of the mannequins that artists would use to work on poses, with articulating joints and limbs that would allow the mannequin to shift and move however they wanted.

Tonks glanced back at Harry and shot him a playful smirk, before stepping back and twirling her wand on her fingertips. "That, Harry, is a simulacrum—or it will be once I'm done with it. It can become a perfect copy of any person, provided they're given a drop of blood to do the work. Back when magic was severely persecuted, Magicals would use these to get muggleborn children away from their parents."

She glanced back at Harry and slipped her hand into his. "This is how we're going to get you out of here. Put a drop of blood on that rune I carved into it's forehead, and it'll become a perfect copy of you—along with some certain personality traits I added in to help sell the image that this is a brooding angst-filled teen and not an animated piece of wood."

Harry stared between Tonks and the simulacrum for a moment before finally nodding and stepping forward. Placing his thumb against the mannequin's head, he felt a sudden piercing feeling run up his arm, and his hand snapped back. As soon as he did, the mannequin began to change shape, slowly standing from the chair in the dining room and becoming a perfect replica of Harry himself.

The simulacrum blinked slowly, before slumping its shoulders. "You two go ahead and leave," it said, its voice sounding just like Harry's but a bit more somber and sullen, "I'll be in my room, doing nothing, bothering no one." With that, the simulacrum turned and began trudging up the stairs towards Harry's room.

"…I do not sound like that," Harry muttered indignantly, shooting Tonks a frown.

Tonks chuckled and wrapped her arm around his. "No, you don't, but it's a good way to keep them from worrying about you. Now, come on!"

And with a sudden spin of her heels, Tonks disapparated once more, this time with Harry and his trunk full of luggage and belongings along for the ride. By the time Arthur Weasley finally came to in the front yard, they were both long gone, and any sign that anything had gone awry or that they had made their escape would be impossible to find.


	9. Chap 9: Welcome to Grimmauld Place

**Oh, do I have a surprise for you guys today!**

**Hello everyone, it's me, ya boi, the Lonely Lorekeeper, and I'm here with another chapter of To Date a Metamorph. I should apologize a bit—I had intended to write this chapter and have it done by Tuesday, as I've decided I'm going to try and update my fics once a week. However, I couldn't decide exactly how I wanted the chapter to go, or where it should take place. I finally had an epiphany late last night, and have spent as much free time as I could to bust it out since.**

**Which leads me to the surprise I have for all of you today****—starting with this chapter, our little story here will be fully living up to the M rating I gave it at the start. That's right, we've got a lemon in this chapter! Now, I should state that it has been a little over seven years since I've actually written a lemon****—been a long time since I last had the courage to dip into this side of the fanficverse****—so if it's a bit rough, please note that I'm not perfect, and you should never expect perfection from me.**

**Anyways, I've said my piece****—enjoy Chapter 9!**

* * *

**Chapter 9: Welcome To Grimmauld Place**

If Harry had thought that the last few side-along apparations throughout the day had helped him get used to the sensation of suddenly teleporting from one place to the next, he was sorely mistaken. His stomach flipped and flopped at least five different times in the approximate three seconds it took to travel from the Dursleys to wherever Tonks had taken him.

And, once they did arrive at their destination, it wasn't on steady feet—the toe of Tonks' boot caught the edge of a rug, and with sudden cry the two found themselves falling rather ungracefully onto the floor. Harry continued to spin ludicrously and landed with a solid 'oof' on his back, while Tonks pinwheeled her arms dramatically before following him down and landing on top of him, her chest pressed against his and her hands held over his head as she finally caught herself.

The two blinked at each other as they took in their sudden compromising position, before Harry's face turned pink and Tonks' hair turned an attractive lavender. "My my, Mr. Potter, making me fall for you so quickly, huh?" Tonks teased, her eyes gleaming as she thought of the kiss from a mere moment ago.

Harry, however, merely blushed and tried to stutter out some kind of reply, attempting to sit up and look away as he did so. However, before he could really get a response out, Harry found himself having the odd sensation of being unable to see his surroundings. Or, at least, that was the best way to explain it—he could see the room around him just fine for a single second. But as soon as his eyes moved away from whatever he was looking at, his memory became muddled and garbled, the edges of his vision distorted with static.

Needless to say, it was a disorienting experience, and left Harry gripping at his head in utter pain and confusion. "Tonks…what…what the hell is going on? Where…where did you take me?"

Harry turned to look at Tonks, hoping that focusing on something he was familiar with would help stabilize him. Unfortunately, he could barely make her out in the muddled and swirled and staticked filter that had suddenly been thrown over his field of vision. He squinted his eyes, hoping that might help, but all it did was make his surroundings darker.

"Oh shit!" Tonks swore, quickly leaping off of Harry and taking a quick step back. "That's right, you can't see anything thanks to the Fidelius! Hang on, Harry, it'll all make sense in a bit—Sirius!"

"Yeah, I know," Harry perked up a bit as he heard a familiar voice cut through the cloud of static. He could make out a shuffling of boots over creaking floorboards, before a firm hand reached out and held onto his shoulder. At this point, Harry's vision was nothing but a swirl of colors, and he could barely hear what was going on around him, but he listened as closely as he could, reaching out towards the voice and the figure holding him.

"Harry, listen to me—the Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix is Number 12 Grimmauld Place."

And just like that, the swirling colors and the disorienting static that had clouded his vision and his hearing vanished as though it had never been. Instead, Harry found himself staring into the worried face of his godfather, who looked a good deal healthier and just a slight bit less insane than he had the last time he'd seen him. Harry's eyes widened, as did the grin on his face as he reached out and hugged Sirius Black.

"Sirius!" Harry exclaimed, positively beaming, before he pulled back to stare at him. "Wait, so—if you're here, then where—where is this place?"

"It's like he said, Harry—you're at Headquarters," Tonks replied, stepping around Sirius so that Harry could see her too.

And Tonks wasn't the only thing he could see—no, the whole mess of colors and spirals and static was gone, and now Harry could clearly see that he was sitting in the middle of a fairly large, if a bit decrepit, room. There was a bed set up at the far end of the room nearby a large window that led out to a small balcony. The bed was nice, though a bit old, and the glass of the window was more than a bit dusty. In fact, most of the room they were all standing in was so grime-covered that Harry was certain Aunt Petunia would die of disgust just looking at it.

Harry looked back up at Sirius and Tonks and raised and eyebrow. "_This_ is Headquarters?" he asked in as flat a deadpan voice he could manage.

Sirius barked out a laugh and clapped Harry on the shoulder. "Yes, Harry, this musky, dirty hideaway is the Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix—no, pup, this is just a part of it. Couldn't risk bringing you right inside since you're not allowed to be here yet, so I had Nymmie bring you here instead—the only part of Headquarters that is truly off limits to everyone, and that no one would ever dare come to anyway."

Harry raised an eyebrow and looked over at Tonks. "Nymmie?"

"Oh great," Tonks murmured, her hair turning a few shades of brighter red for a second, and she crossed her arms. "Uh, Siri, I'm glad that you helped me get the Boy Wonder here safe and sound, but I promise, the next time you call me that, I'm gonna hex your bollocks so bad you won't be able to move without pain for weeks."

"Duly noted," Sirius nodded, chuckling while a bead of sweat slid down his forehead. Beaming once more, he turned to Harry and clapped his hands together. "Anyway, as I was saying, this is the attic of Grimmauld Place—actually used to be my bedroom for a few years, too, that's why there's already a bed here, and why there's a crack in the wards here you can apparate through. Sorry for its sorry state, the house has been in poor shape for over a decade now, but it's the safest place you can be. You're still protected by the Fidelius charm, but you can leave whenever you want through the window."

Harry's head spun from the complete and utter information dump that had been thrown onto him by his godfather, and he held a hand up for him to slow down. "Hang on a second, this used to be your room? So this is your house, your family's house? And now it's the Headquarters of the Order? How did that happen? And what do you mean, Fidelius charm?"

Before he could say anything further, Tonks stepped forward and placed a comforting hand onto Harry's shoulder. "Don't worry, we'll answer as much as we can of that in time—I'll certainly answer as much as I can, now that I don't have to worry about the charm messing with me. Right now, though, let's get you settled into the fact that you're somewhere safe and free from those Dursley bastards, and leave it at that."

Harry smiled at Tonks' show of support and took a deep sigh, letting his addled nerves calm for a moment. "Alright," he sighed.

"And speaking of getting things settled," Sirius stated, suddenly moving towards the attic door, "why don't the two of you get started on getting Harry settled into his new room? I have to run real quick—Molly's probably finished dinner, and she'll probably suspect something if I'm not around. I'll actually bring you some once I come back, and then we can get around to answering all the questions you have for me."

"Thanks, Sirius," Harry replied, smiling at his godfather.

"Of course!" Sirius beamed back at him, before glancing back at Harry and Tonks and shooting the two of them a wink. "By the way, this room should still have the charms I put on it for my own personal privacy, so as long as the door is shut and locked, no one can see or hear inside by any muggle or magical means. Just letting the two of you know incase either of you wanted to…you know, test to see if that bed's doing alright after all these years—"

"Oh, get out of here, you mangy mutt!" Tonks suddenly shouted out, her face a bright pink and her hair a flustered orange as she fired a spell at him.

Sirius yelped in surprise before retreating out the door, cackling the whole way even as the door slammed and locked shut behind him, another deft movement of Tonks' spellcraft. There was a beat of silence after that, and then Harry and Tonks looked at each other again, an uneasy and flustered energy between them after what Sirius had suggested. When neither spoke, Harry finally coughed and turned to look around the attic that the two of them had escaped to.

It ended up being Harry that finally broke the silence between them.

"You know," he stated, shoving his hands into his pockets, "ever since I met Sirius back in my third year, I dreamed of what it would be like to live with him. I yearned for a chance to escape the Dursleys for good, and just live a carefree life with the roguish scoundrel my dad grew up with. I never really had a clear image in my mind of what kind of house he lived in, but it always came back to something immaculate and incredible."

He finally turned to look at Tonks, a bit of a smirk slipping onto his face. "Somehow, though, I never really imagined this."

The flatness of his comment made Tonks snort-laugh, more so just glad that they were working past the awkwardness between them than anything else. "To be fair, Grimmauld Place is a pretty immaculate home—you're just seeing the worst side of it right now."

She then paused, then laughed again, though more to herself than to Harry. "Though, in all fairness, the whole house was in a pretty bad way for a while. No one's lived in it aside from the Blacks' house elf who's so crazy he couldn't even be bothered to do his job right, and since there are so many dark artifacts lying around it's too dangerous to try and clean it magically, so the only way to make it livable has been to clean it by hand."

"And, lucky me, they saved the best for last," Harry chuckled dryly.

"Well, Sirius did say that this part of the house was off limits," Tonks replied, smiling as she gently elbowed Harry in the ribs before walking over to a stack of boxes. "Besides, it's not like you're doing this on your own! You've still got me here to lend a hand—and unlike the rest of the house, this was Sirius' room, so there's probably not nearly as much need to worry about dark artifacts and whatnot—we can handle this in no time!"

Harry smirked and walked over to help her with some of the boxes. "I'm glad someone's optimistic," he chuckled, before taking a box and carefully rifling through it before walking off to find someplace to store it.

Tonks watched him go, a small smile replacing her smirk as she did. Her optimism, of course, stemmed from more than just a desire to help Harry. Her thoughts kept going back to that kiss back at the Dursleys, and how Harry had completely surprised her by his boldness. Her patience was wearing thin—she wanted him, and was pretty damn close to tired of waiting. If it weren't for the fact that the current setting was in under shambles, she would try and take him right that minute. As it were, she wanted to get it cleaned as quickly as possible.

Of course, that was easier said than done. The third box they'd looked through had held several dark artifacts—something that only Tonks' razor-sharp auror reflexes had been fast enough to recognize and defend against once revealed—and since then they had been forced to clean the room by hand, just as the Weasleys and Hermione had been forced to throughout the summer so far. By the time Sirius returned with a tray of food from dinner an hour and a half later, Harry and Tonks had managed to clear away about a third of the boxes, with all of the true cleaning still left undone.

They agreed, then, that now would be a good time for a break.

Harry sighed in contentment as he took his first bite of fresh Weasley cooking that he'd had in almost a year—a thick and hearty stew paired with some kind of savory meat pie in a freshly goldened crust. As he ate, he and Tonks sat with Sirius in their little cleared corner, listening as he helped answer Harry's questions and explained everything that was going on as far as he knew it.

The first, of course, was that Grimmauld Place was indeed his old family home—one of them, at least. The Blacks were an old and powerful wizarding family, after all, and so had several properties. But, as this one was in the city, well hidden, and was the one Sirius was most familiar with, it had been the one Sirius had offered as a Headquarters for the Order of the Phoenix. It might not have been the cleanest of places for them to operate out of, but at least it was a place.

That brought Harry's attention to his next question of just what the Order was. This Tonks was able to help answer as well. As it turned out, the Order was a sort of vigilante organization during the first war against Voldemort, and with his resurrection Dumbledore had gone and reformed it again. Harry was intrigued, but that intrigue quickly deflated when he learned that so far all the Order had really done was keep a close watch on him at the Dursleys and go on less-than-successful missions to convince other races to join the fight against Voldemort.

They also mentioned that the Order had another watch in place, in the Department of Mysteries, but didn't say much else as they were about in the dark as Harry was on why exactly they were there. They assumed that it was to ensure Voldemort and his supporters didn't get some kind of tool or weapon for success from the Ministry's research department, but the exact specifics on the why were still largely unknown.

"And that's all that we're doing?" Harry asked in disbelief.

"Unfortunately, that's it," Sirius said with a shrug, wiping his hands off on his trousers before pushing himself up to his feet. "To be fair, it seems as though the Dark Tosser's doing about the same thing on his side—still just gathering supporters, not making any big moves just yet. Still, a good chunk of the Order was expecting something a bit more actionable when they joined."

"Well, in that we're in agreement," Harry groaned. "I kept hoping to hear something on the Dursleys' television or radio, or read something in the Prophet, but it just sounds like the same general madness as always."

Sirius nodded, reaching over to take up Harry's and Tonks' finished dishes and adding them to his tray. "I wouldn't worry too much just yet, pup. Whatever he's up to, it seems he's in no more a rush than Dumbledore is, so there's no real point getting too anxious. For now, let's just focus on taking care of this mess and getting you a room that's at least slightly better than anything you were having at the muggles' place."

Harry nodded, groaning as he stood and looked around the room again. "Well, that'll certainly keep me busy for a bit—this place is a nightmare, I can't imagine what the rest of the house looks."

Sirius sighed and set the tray of dishes down, slipping his hands into his pockets with a tired huff. "Not good—at least the most populated areas have been cleaned decently since we got here. But there's still a lot of places that we haven't been to, and a lot of places that my mother's elf has refused to clean for the past fifteen damned years. This is certainly the worst, but only by a bit."

"And here I was, thinking I was lucky Molly never tried to carouse me into helping her brood with the cleaning, too," Tonks muttered sourly.

Harry shrugged before standing up and reaching over to a nearby broom. "Well, the longer we look at it, the longer it'll take to get started. And I, for one, at least want the room cleaned a bit before I head to bed. At least the Dursleys taught me how to clean well…"

Sirius nodded, though there were the faintest rumblings of thunder in his eyes as he listened to his godson's words. "I swear, Harry, one of these days I'm going to march over to those muggles and give them the punishment they deserve—I mean, making you into practically a house elf for the first ten years of your life…"

Harry shrugged, giving Sirius an awkward smile. "Hey, it could've been worse, right? I could've been a house elf for the Malfoys, like Dobby."

Of course, even as he said that, he knew that the comparison between him and Dobby was much too close. He still remembered how Dobby acted the first few times he met the elf—anxious and twitchy and filled with such self-doubt. How he'd been abused and harmed and forced to wear shabby 'clothes' by those that he served. Looking back on it now, it had reminded Harry far too much of his own life with the Dursleys, and made him sick in the stomach thinking of it.

Before he could say much else on it, though, the three of them were interrupted by a sudden sharp pop.

"Did the Great Master Harry Potter sir call for Dobby?" a high, squeaky voice called out, and instantly Harry, Tonks, and Sirius spun around in shock, the latter two reaching for their wands. Dobby—who had popped into existence on top of the stack of boxes in the corner wearing a tall stack of bowlers, a pair of mismatched gloves, some kind of small apron, and a pair of mismatched socks—instantly shot his hands up into the air, his tennis ball sized eyes wide with worry. "No! Please don't hurt Dobby! Dobby's a good elf!"

"Dobby!" Harry exclaimed, taking a step closer to his very short friend. "What—how did you get here?"

Dobby blinked up at Harry before smiling and gesturing back at him. "Well, Great Master Harry Potter sir called for Dobby, and so Dobby came when he was called. This bes simple house elf magic, Great Master Harry Potter sir, all house elves come when they're called!"

"Not all of them," Sirius grumbled, causing Tonks' lips to twitch into a smirk.

"Still, how did he get here?" Tonks asked, her wand still pointed towards the elf. "The wards around the house should've kept him out, shouldn't they? Or at the very least the Fidelius charm should've made him as dizzy as it did with Harry, right?"

"Oh, wizard magic doesn't work on house elves the way it does with wizards," Dobby stated, puffing himself up a bit, his hats flopping backwards slightly. "As long as the elf's wizard bes someplace, the house elf can go do them."

Harry blinked in surprise, before his face slowly slipped into a frown and he stepped forward. "But, Dobby…I thought you said that you were a free elf? You don't have a master."

The house elf paused, before seeming to shrink in on himself, wringing his hands nervously. "Oh, Dobby wasn't supposed to say that…Dobby knows how much the Great Master Harry Potter sir's Mione doesn't like house elves doing work, so Dobby wanted to keep it a secret. Dobby should've known to keep his mouth shut…"

Before Dobby could even get close to…whatever he was going to do—Harry didn't know, but after his second year, he had a pretty good idea of what Dobby might do—Harry stepped forward and placed a hand gently on Dobby's shoulder. "Dobby! I'm not mad, I'm just trying to understand…are you my elf?"

Dobby paused as Harry's hand rested on his shoulder, and his tennis ball sized eyes looked up at him in a teary sort of way. "House elves needs a wizard to live, Great Master Harry Potter sir. We needs the magic from the bond to sustain us, otherwise we wither and waste away. Dobby bound himself to the Great Master Harry Potter sir just after he released Dobby from the bad master, because Dobby knew the Great Master Harry Potter would be a good master for him."

Harry sighed and shook his head, smiling at his small friend. "Okay, first—Dobby? You don't need to call me all that. Just Harry or Harry Potter would do, alright? Second, I'll be happy to have you as my house elf, though we'll need to come up with some form of payment for your help, alright?"

Dobby seemed to beam at that, and he leaped forward to hug Harry's chest. "Dobby understands, Harry Potter, and Dobby will do his best!"

"In the meanwhile, though," Tonks suddenly piped up, looking over her shoulder at Dobby, "maybe you wouldn't mind helping us out in cleaning this room? Harry's going to be living here for the next while, and as you can see it's a pretty big mess, not including all of the dark artifacts that are hiding around. If you could help us with that, I know we'd both appreciate it."

The house elf blinked up at Tonks' suggestion, before he glanced around the room in shock. "Oh, no no no!" he cried out, stamping his foot. "The Great Harry Potter should not be living in this filth! No, Dobby will take care of this for him, don't you worry Harry Potter's lady!"

And with that, Dobby disappeared in a sudden pop, leaving Harry and Tonks both a few shades pinker than they had before, and Sirius cackling softly behind them. Before they could say anything in return, they started to notice the room around them almost seeming to clean itself—grime disappearing from the floorboards and walls, the windows being wiped clean and shined, the boxes sorted through and then launched across the room into a storage room that slammed shut. Even the furniture was sorted out, the bed quickly bending and creaking as it was refurbished before their very eyes.

Sirius let out a long and low whistle, smirking at the sight. "Well, your elf sure is impressive, Harry," he chuckled, before looking over at his godson. "Any chance he could talk my elf into picking up the slack some?"

"Dobby can go speak to Kreacher if Harry's Dogfather wants Dobby to!" Dobby suddenly replied, popping before the three of them before disappearing once more.

Harry blinked, before grinning and glancing back at Sirius. "I think that's gonna be a yes," he replied.

Sirius smirked back at Harry before clapping him on the back. "Well, then, I should probably go and make certain he doesn't get himself into trouble trying to put Kreacher in line. Try not to get into too much trouble, alright?" With that, Sirius turned and strode back out of the room, the door shutting and locking behind him, leaving Harry and Tonks alone once more.

This time, it was Tonks who broke the silence, as she smirked over at Harry and laid and hand on her hip. "Well, it's never a boring moment with you around, isn't it Boy Wonder?"

Harry chuckled dryly and shrugged, slipping his hands into his pockets. "It's more a curse if you ask me—I keep hoping that I'll just be able to have a normal, quiet life, and something else crazy happens. It's honestly starting to get pretty annoying." He paused, frowning as he looked back at Tonks. "Also, don't call me…_that_, or anything like it."

"Would you rather I called you Hero Boy?" she teased in return, slowly walking closer to him.

"Actually, no, I wouldn't," Harry replied quickly, taking a small step back away from her, and unknowingly towards the bed. "Really, I'd rather you didn't call me either of them, if you could manage that. Just Harry is fine by me, and always has been. I thought you of all people would understand that, Tonks—or, would you rather I call you Nymmie?"

Tonks, however, only let her smirk grow wider as she slowly prowled closer towards Harry, and with each step she took, Harry would take one step back. "Well, then, Harry, how about a trade-off. I get to call you Hero Boy or Boy Wonder or whatever, and in return~" She smirked, stepping closer again, and as Harry stepped back he found himself at the edge of his bed. "You can call me whatever you want~"

With her smirk still curled onto her lips, Tonks leaned forward to kiss Harry with just as much fire and passion that he had kissed her back in the Dursleys' dining room. Harry, who had kissed her in a moment of intense emotions and surprising boldness even for him, was currently too flustered to do much other than nervously kiss her back, his hands moving at first to try and push her away, before slowly wrapping around her waist. Tonks smirked against his lips and gently shoved forward, causing Harry to fall with a surprised 'oof' onto the bed.

"Though, first and foremost, I want to hear you call me your lover," she murmured, leaning over to crawl onto the bed with him, her breasts easily swelling much larger than normal and straining against her shirt.

Harry stared at Tonks with a bright blush spread across his face, and he shuffled back until his head was at the headboard of the bed. "Tonks, I—I've never…"

But Tonks just smiled and leaned forward, kissing Harry once more, before staring at him with surprisingly bright pink eyes. "Don't worry, Hero Boy~" Tonks murmured, slowly pulling back and moving down his body. "Let your new hot lover take care of you…I promise, you'll love this~"

As she said that, Tonks moved her hands down Harry's frame, coming to a stop at the hem of his pants, her now seductive gaze never leaving Harry's own wide emerald eyes. Her fingers reached and fiddled with the clasp of his belt, which she quickly pulled free and tossed to the side, before taking the button and zipper of his jeans and undoing them, pulling his jeans down a bit as she did so. She smirked, licking her lips as she felt the reaction Harry was having to her, and then finally yanked the jeans down towards his knees.

Tonks had gotten to spy Harry's cock while she had been spying on him changing, but having it so up close and personal was something else entirely. It was definitely one of the larger cocks she'd had—and with Harry having quite a bit of growing still yet to do, it was only certain to grow more from here. Smirking, Tonks stared back up at Harry as she reached out and slipped her hand around the width by the base, stroking it slowly at first.

Harry bit back a grunt of arousal at the feeling of her soft hand around his length, his hands moving to grip the sheets of the bed. This couldn't actually be happening, could it? It seemed too crazy even for him, and yet it also felt far too real for it to be anything but actually happening. "Tonks…" he groaned.

"Oh? Is Hero Boy enjoying himself~?" she asked, smirking before shooting Harry a flirtatious wink. "Well get ready, because it's going to get oh so much better."

Smirking, Tonks slowly moved forward, pursing her lips as she planted a soft kiss at the head of Harry's cock, which jumped in surprise. Her smirk widened, and she gave it another, longer kiss, before slowly opening her mouth and taking the first few inches into her. Her eyes the whole time remained fixed on Harry's, ensuring that he was staring at her as she slowly began to work inch after inch of his cock into her mouth and down her throat.

Harry leaned back against the headrest of the bed and struggled to hold back his moans. Tonks had been right, it felt so much better than anything else he'd felt before. Her lips felt incredible, wrapped around his length, and his hips jolted in surprise as he felt her beginning to quickly bob her head back and forth, bouncing along his length.

Tonks smirked—even as Harry tried to hide his moans, she could hear and feel and see the affect she was having on him. Deciding to up the ante a bit, to see if she could make him break, Tonks began to put her metamorphic powers to work, her throat widening as she pulled back and slammed his full length into her in one fluid movement, while her tongue lengthened and began to wrap and curl around him. Her throat began to slowly massage his length as she began rocking her head back and forth, her tongue eagerly licking and squeezing whatever part was not down her throat.

Her efforts succeeded, and Harry finally let out a loud groan, his hands releasing the bedsheets to find themselves lost in Tonks' hair, holding onto her as she continued her eager ministrations. "Oh fuck, Nym!" he groaned, his hips beginning to roll against her bobbing face by pure instinct.

Tonks shot Harry a coy smirk—or as best a one as she could as she continued her work—and redoubled her efforts, pleased to see that Harry was becoming more than a bit willing to her actions. The feeling of his fingers running through her hair sent shivers down her spine. Her metamorphic powers reacted to her emotions, and her hair grew longer, long enough to hold onto if Harry wanted to, and shifted into a brighter, more lustful shade of pink.

Harry felt the shift in Tonks' hair, and he gripped her tight as his hips began to thrust back up into her, his body running on instincts and the intense desire he was feeling for her. His head leaned back as he did, feeling his limit drawing close, and he let out a low moan. "Oh Merlin, Tonks, I—fuck, I'm getting close!"

Tonks heard him, but his words only seemed to make her more eager, her head bobbing faster against his hips. She wanted to taste him, to feel his seed running down her throat. She moaned and hummed around his length, her eyes still locked on his as she begged him, as best she could, to let it out. And with that sight before him, Harry could hardly hold back, holding Tonks' head in place as he pressed his hips to her face and finally came, another loud and lustful shout escaping him as he did.

A low and sultry moan escaped Tonks as she held herself against Harry's hips, her head tilted back as she easily swallowed his load. Her eyes drifted shut as she savored his taste, before pulling back and smirking up at Harry, a gleam shimmering in her eyes.

"Mm, not bad, Hero Boy~" she murmured, leaning back and staring at him with a lustful, half-lidded stare. "But we're only just beginning, and I think it's time we moved to the main event~"

As she said this, Tonks hands moved to her shirt, which she effortlessly tossed over her head, revealing that she was, in fact, not wearing a bra underneath. Harry's eyes widened at the sight of her breasts bouncing free of the restricting cloth, something Tonks was very pleased with, before her hands moved further down her body towards her own pair of jeans.

Harry watched as Tonks removed the last of her clothes, his eyes slowly taking in her naked form before him—he'd seen it before when she'd tripped in the shower, but this was a far cry different from helping a friend in an awkward situation. This was a woman—one practically dripping with seduction and sexuality—and she was looking at him with such intense desire that it sent shivers down his spine. And yet, at the same time, he found himself surprisingly excited.

Smirking once more, Tonks slowly crawled along the bed until she was beside Harry, her hands at his jeans once more. With a quick tug, she had them off of him, and as she looked back up at him, the young wizard was hastily tossing his own shirt haphazardly across the room. Her eyes darted over his bare chest, and her lips parted, her tongue dashing over them as she looked eagerly on.

Before Harry could do anything else, the vivacious pinkette pinned him down onto the bed, her lips on his once more as she moved to straddle him. She kissed him lustfully, hungrily, and this time Harry met her every inch of the way, his hands running up through her hair and pulling her closer to him. He groaned as she pulled away, a gasp and a jolt running through him as he felt her hand once more on his length, the tip of his cock brushing against her lower lips.

Tonks pulled back at bit, her eyes gleaming as she stared down into Harry's emerald greens. "Welcome to Grimmauld Place, Hero Boy~"

With that, Tonks let herself drop down onto Harry's cock, the two of them moaning in unison at the incredible feeling that immediately rushed through them. Tonks' back arched, and she slowly leaned back so that she was sitting on Harry's lap, her hips slowly grinding back and forth as she let more and more of his cock slowly inch into her tight cunt. Her hands moved down from his shoulders to his hips as she held herself steady, sighing deeply, before looking back down at him with a smirk.

Harry barely had time to register the smirk before Tonks started bouncing on his lap, her hips rising up and down as she began riding Harry at an eager pace. The pink-haired woman bit her lip to control her moans, but her gaze remained fixed on Harry's, her hands gently tracing shapes on his bare chest as she felt wave after wave of pleasure roll through her. This had been what she'd wanted, and waited on, and now it was hers.

Harry groaned under her, his eyes locked on hers, his hands moving to hold onto her waist. "Oh Nym~" he groaned out, his hips bucking up into her. "Nym, fuck, you feel so good~"

"Mm, you feel good too, Hero Boy~" Tonks winked in reply, smirking back at her as she began bouncing on him faster. She felt his hands slowly exploring her hips and moving back towards her ass, and after shooting him another wink, he gave it a squeeze, causing her to let out another sharp moan. "Oh yes, very good~ Not bad for a first time at all~"

Another deep groan escaped Harry's lips, cutting off his reply. Instead, he watched her continue to bounce on his lap, his eyes moving from her eager, seductive smile, to the pair of bouncing tits that he had found himself staring at more than once over the past two days. Licking his lips, Harry slowly leaned up and forward, burying his face between them. A surprised gasp escaped Tonks as she felt his lips begin to graze her skin, and she smirked, her breasts expanding once more.

"Oh yes, Harry, play with my tits! They're yours, just like I'm yours, Hero Boy~!"

A small smirk of his own slipped onto Harry's face as he moved his lips away from her tits to flash her a grin, before diving back down and popping one of her bright pink nipples into his mouth, suckling on it eagerly. As he did, one of his hands slowly moved up from her hip to start squeezing and massaging the other, pinching and twisting the nipple playfully, doing anything he could to hear Tonks' eager moans.

It worked, as Tonks' head rolled back and she filled the attic room they were in with shouts and cries of pleasure. "Oh fuck yes, Harry!" she moaned, looking back down at him with a lustful gaze, her arms wrapping around his head and running her fingers through his hair. She was very glad for the silencing wards Sirius had mentioned, though a part of her didn't really care if anyone heard them, only that Harry kept making her feel so good.

Harry made to reply, but he was cut off as he felt another wave of pleasure rush through him—somehow, Tonks' cunt felt even tighter than before, and almost seemed to be squeezing him ever harder. He gripped tight onto her ass, holding on almost for dear life as he felt her ride him even faster, her perfect ass in his hands bouncing off of his lap. His head rolled back and he let out another long and low groan, feeling another release coming close.

"Nym~ oh, Merlin, Nym, I'm…I'm gonna~"

Tonks moaned with Harry, feeling her own release coming fast as well, and smiled down at Harry, her hands moving up his body to cup his face in her hands. "So am I, Harry, so am I~! Lets cum together, then, Hero boy—and don't worry, I'm on the potion!"

Harry didn't quite know what Tonks meant by that, but at the moment he couldn't really care, his hips acting on their own as the began to buck and thrust up to meet each bounce Tonks made on his cock. He held tight to her, pulling her slowly closer and closer to him, the two of them moaning eagerly as they both quickly came to their releases. And, with one sudden shout, Tonks slammed back down onto his lap, the two of them staring wide eyed at each other, seeing stars dancing across their visions.

Harry gasped slowly, blinking furiously as he looked up at Tonks. "Nym…fuck, that was…that was brilliant…" he finally uttered, his lips turning up into a grin.

Tonks smiled back at him and slowly leaned down to kiss him, her still long hair forming a curtain around them as she did so. "Yes it was, Hero Boy…and, there's more where that came from, if you're up for it~" She pulled back to wink at Harry, her eyes once more that erotic shade of pink they had been before.

In response, Harry pushed against her, and Tonks found herself on her back, Harry's cock hovering over her entrance. "Oh, I'm up for it~" he replied, before thrusting back down into her again.

* * *

Madam Bones frowned as she stared over the papers and files that littered the top of her desk. In the past twelve hours, she had put her best men she could salvage on the job of finding anything and everything to do with Sirius Black and his imprisonment fourteen years earlier. She had sent one to the hall of records for the transcripts from the trial, another to St. Mungo's for the psyche evaluation he would've had to have gone through, and another through their own archives for the arrest details.

All of it had turned up empty.

There was no record of a trial for Sirius Black in November of 1981. There was no record of him having a psyche evaluation or any other necessary medical evaluation done at St. Mungo's, or any other place as far as they knew. There wasn't even a record from the arrest—which was perhaps the most dubious of the lot, as that came straight from her department, and had been done by Alastor Moody, her mentor and closest family friend.

It boggled the mind, especially considering how all of the other Death Eaters that had been rounded up around the same time as Sirius all had their records. Each of her aurors had doubled back to check that and, indeed, each had their trial records, their evaluation records, and their arrest records where they were supposed to be. Even Bellatrix Lestrange and her husband had those records, despite them likely being the least necessary of the bunch.

And yet, Sirius Black had none of it. It was driving Amelia crazy—if she didn't know for herself, she would've thought that Sirius Black had never even been to Azkaban at all. But he had been, he'd been sent there, for a reason that seemingly everyone in Wizarding Britain knew, and yet of which there was absolutely no physical evidence.

She paused, and glanced over at another file that was sitting at her desk. It had appeared there when she'd gone out for lunch, courtesy of her friend in the Unspeakables, and it had perhaps some of the most mind-boggling information yet. She'd flipped through it a couple of times before putting it off to the side. She would worry about it later, once she had a plan for how to prove Sirius' innocence despite there being practically no proof of his conviction at all.

But, mark her words, she would return to that folder in due time. And, when she did, she hoped to finally find the answer to the question that had been plaguing her since that morning.

Just who, exactly, was Harry Potter?


	10. Chap 10: Coming to Terms

**Well...it's been a while, hasn't it?**

**Good evening, my find friends and fellow fanfictioneers! 'Tis I, the Lonely Lorekeeper, here once more with a new chapter of To Date a Metamorph—and about damn time, too, I'm guessing you're all thinking, right? I mean, the last time I updated this story was back in July, and here we are in October now, finally getting to Chapter 10! Honestly, I have no excuses for you, other than I'm sorry, and that Minecraft and Hollow Knight are far more addicting than they have any right being.**

**Anyways, this chapter goes some places****—I know a lot of you have been complaining that I've been sticking to _losthpfanficwriter_'s original plot a little too much, but I wanted to set up a good base to work off of before we got too crazy****—which, by the way, starts in this chapter. So, my friends, I suggest you hold on to your butts, because it's gonna be a bit of a bumpy ride as we figure out, together, just where the hell this story is going.**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

**Chapter 10: Coming to Terms**

Harry awoke the next morning with a contented sigh, feeling relaxed and well-rested once again. After years of living in cramped and cluttered rooms and on beds that didn't quite suit him, this change of pace was quite welcome, and he relished in it. And, of course, it only helped that he felt a certain amount of comfort from the pair of long, slender arms that were once more wrapped around him, holding him close to the warm body beside him.

That, however, caused Harry to pause, and he blinked his eyes slowly open.

Once more, there was Tonks, laying with a serene smile upon her sleeping face. Memories of the previous night came rushing over him, and he blushed brightly as he watched her. He still couldn't believe that they'd done that…or how many times they'd done it, either. Thank Merlin Sirius had told them about the silencing and privacy wards on the room, otherwise they might've kept the whole house up with their lovemaking.

Harry paused again, and he laid his head back down onto the pillow. Lovemaking…that was the word for it…but were they actually in love? Sure, he'd been the one to kiss her first when escaping the Dursleys, but that had been in a rush of emotion and excitement and a large part of himself was still very shocked at it all. And on the other hand, he just couldn't imagine her being so interested in him like that. After all, he was still just a Hogwarts student, and she was a fully-fledged auror. What did he have to really interest her?

Before he could dwell too much on the thought, Tonks began to shift about next to him. Her eyes slowly blinked open, shifting from deep violet to warm umber as they had the previous morning. She smiled sleepily at him and pulled him closer to her. "Mmm, wotcher Hero-boy."

Harry sighed, shooting Tonks a faint smile in return. "Morning Nym—and what did I say about you calling me Hero-boy?"

"Oh, but it fits you so well, Harry," Tonks moaned in reply, before flashing him another grin. "I mean, it did before I even knew you—and it's a lot more personal than that 'boy-who-lived' shit—but after hearing and seeing all that you did these past four years, well, I'm surprised you haven't had more witches trying to get in your pants before me."

She shot Harry a saucy wink, which only served to make the raven-haired wizard laugh quietly in reply, a faint blush spreading across his face as he did so. Naturally, though, Tonks' words brought his mind back to the thoughts he'd been pondering over before she'd awoken, and now they felt even more pressing than before. Sighing, Harry slowly pulled himself free and sat up on the bed, staring back down at Tonks, who rolled over onto her shoulder to look up at him with a questioning gaze.

"Tonks…" he murmured, looking down at her, before looking away. "There's…something that's been bothering me…about…us…"

Tonks stared back up at Harry, the saucy smirk that had been on her face a moment earlier quickly disappearing at Harry's odd mannerisms. "Harry?" she asked, sitting up so that she was beside him. She took his hand in hers, reaching out to place her hand on his cheek and turn his gaze back to her. "Whatever's bugging you, you can tell me, lover-boy."

Harry stared into Tonks' eyes for a moment before sighing and closing his. "I just…what are we, Tonks?" He looked back up at her. "Like, after the past few days, I've enjoyed your company a lot, but then there was last night, and I just…I just don't know if this is real, or if this is just a fling for you, or what."

Tonks felt a twist in her gut as she heard Harry's concerns. For all of her initial plotting to get back at her mother and exercise her agency in who she could date—all of which was still on the plate, mind you—she had actually genuinely enjoyed her time hanging out with Harry. And, while he was far from the usual rebellious bad-boy type that she was drawn towards, the things that he'd done had more than impressed her and shot pretty much any other guy she'd ever been attracted to out of the water.

Perhaps Charlie Weasley could compete a bit, but she was pretty sure he was more interested in dragons than birds, if you caught her meaning. Harry, on the other hand, was very interested in birds, as he'd proven several times the previous night, only getting better as the night went on. And, she couldn't deny that he was rather handsome—the oft-mentioned comparisons to the handsome James Potter did not do it justice. She could only imagine what he'd be like once they were a bit closer in age.

Shaking her mind of her wandering thoughts, Tonks turned back to Harry and gently rubbed her hand over his cheek. "Harry…I'll be honest, this did start out a lot of just having fun and fooling around…but, things have changed."

Harry blinked, turning his gaze back onto her eyes, which had turned a lovely shade of lavender, while her hair began to shift into a softer shade of pink. She smiled a coy smile back at him, her thumb still slowly rolling in small circles over his cheek.

"And now? I can honestly see me falling for you, Hero-boy, and sticking with you for a while." She smiled, before pulling back a bit. "I mean, I'm not sure just how long yet…not quite sure where this road we're walking down is taking us…but," she added, winking as she pulled herself back down closer to him, "I'm willing to find out where it goes, if you are."

A moment of silence passed between the two of them, before Harry smiled back at her, his hand reaching out to cup her cheek, as she had his. "Nym…"

Before he could say anything else, unfortunately, the two were interrupted by a sudden knocking on the bedroom door. "Hey, you two in there!" Sirius' familiar voice called through the door. "You both better be decent, because I've got some breakfast for the both of you, and a bit of a surprise for our newest resident."

"Oh, that mangy mutt," Tonks muttered darkly, frowning over at the door with murderous intent.

Frustrated that their moment had been interrupted, Tonks leaped to her feet from the bed. She cast a look back at Harry that said 'we're not done here', before pulling Harry's shirt over herself, the hand-me-down from his whale-like cousin more than large enough to cover her bits—though she doubted she'd ever wear it again after this—and then strode up to the attic's door. Waving her wand around quickly to undo the locking and privacy charms surrounding the room, she huffed quietly to herself before gripping the door and swinging it open.

"What?" she asked, before her hair suddenly turned a shocked white.

Standing on the other side of the door was her older cousin Sirius, carrying a tray with a rather bountiful spread of breakfast fixings—how he got that past Molly without her catching him, she hadn't the foggiest—and standing just beside him, staring at Tonks with wide, shocked, and surprisingly knowing eyes, was…

"Hermione?" Tonks asked, her hair slowly turning a flustered orange. "Wha-what are you doing here?"

Behind her, Tonks could hear Harry suddenly stumble loudly out of the bed and begin hurriedly getting himself dressed. It was one thing if his godfather had walked in on him half-naked with Tonks—he was fairly certain the old dog had planned for that to happen the whole time, though he couldn't prove it. It was another thing entirely for his best friend of four years to walk in on him half-naked with someone six years older than them.

Out in the hall, Sirius shot Tonks a sheepish smile and shrugged his shoulders as much as he could while still keeping the tray level. "Sorry, Nymmie, she got it out of me."

Tonks' eyes narrowed, and she idly twirled her wand. "Don't think you won't get off scot-free about that, you old mutt," she lightly threatened, before turning her gaze to Hermione, who was still staring a bit shocked at her. "And you got it out of him? How'd you know?"

Hermione shook herself of her shock—or, at least, most of it—before smirking over at Sirius. "He seemed just a bit too chipper when he came down for breakfast today. Besides, I overheard your plans yesterday while you were over in the Black library."

Tonks' eyes widened, and she looked over at Sirius in surprise, who just shrugged again. "We're lucky it was just her that overheard us, and not someone else," he simply replied.

"So, it's true, then?" she asked, crossing her arms, even as she tried to restrain herself. "He's here? Harry's here?"

"Yeah, I'm here, Hermione," Harry finally stated, moving into view behind Tonks, now fully dressed once more and wearing a bit of a sheepish smile.

That sheepish smile quickly disappeared as, before Tonks, Sirius, or anyone else could do anything to stop her, Hermione rushed into the attic-bedroom and hurled herself at Harry, throwing her arms around him and giving him a crushing hug. Harry gasped in shock, before smiling faintly and hugging her gingerly back, staring over her shoulder at the amused—or at least slightly amused—faces of Sirius and Tonks.

"It's good to see you again, too," he murmured.

Hermione smiled and pulled back to look back at him. "Sorry, Harry, I've just missed you so much. Dumbledore wouldn't let us visit you or sent too many letters in case someone noticed us, and none of the Order members that would return from watching you would say anything about you, so I just kept getting more and more worried about leaving you alone with _those_ people after—"

"Hermione!" Harry nearly shouted out, snapping her out of her state, before giving her a reassuring smile. "I'm really fine, especially these last couple days."

His words got through to her, and Hermione pulled back, cutting her rambling babbles off before she could say anything else. At his last few words, though, a knowing smirk slipped over her face and she raised an eyebrow in his direction. "Yes, I can see that…"

Harry's face flushed bright red, before shooting an embarrassed glare over at Sirius, who had walked in with Tonks and locked the door behind them again and was now barking out in laughter. Beside him, Tonks shared Harry's embarrassed blush, while also shooting the old dogfather a furious frown. Sighing, he looked back at Hermione, who just kept her piercing-yet-amused gaze fixed firmly on him.

"Hermione, I—" he began, before she lightly shook her head.

"We can talk about…this later," she stated firmly, a tone that made it certain that they _would_ return to this, before leaning forward and giving him another, gentler hug. "For now, I'm just glad to see you."

Harry sighed and hugged her gently back. "I'm glad to see you too, 'Mione." He then pulled back and looked at her, and over to Sirius. "Does anyone else know, then?"

"Nope," Sirius replied, walking away from the door to set the tray of breakfast food down on a nearby dresser. "Hermione only found out because she overheard us—that, and she's just a little too sharp for her own good." Hermione blushed a bit at Sirius' words, but he continued. "Other than her, though, the only ones that know that you're here, Harry, are all in this room. Not even Remus or Ron know you're here."

Taking a moment to think about it, Harry nodded and walked over to the dresser and picking up a slice of toast. "Well, that might be for the best, for now. I probably wouldn't mind Remus knowing…but I don't trust Ron to keep it a secret while I'm here."

Tonks raised an eyebrow and slowly walked over to Harry's side. "I feel like there's more to it than just that…" she murmured, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder.

Hermione sighed and shook her head. "Harry and Ron had a falling out during the Triwizard Tournament last year—Ron was jealous of Harry and refused to believe that Harry didn't enter himself into the Tournament. They got over it, eventually…but only after Harry had to face the Horntail in the first task, and Ron finally apologized."

"I don't know if I'd call what he said an apology, Hermione," Harry sighed, before looking back at Tonks. "But, yeah, me and Ron are on a bit of a rough patch, and the fact that he didn't even try to send me any mail about what's going on over the summer didn't help him any."

"Well, you don't have to worry about him finding out about you before you're ready," Sirius stated, shooting Harry a wolfish grin. "Like I said, the only people who know you're here are in this room, and I trust we'll all keep it under wraps. After all, if word gets out, and gets back to Dumbledore—"

"He's not sending Harry back," Tonks stated firmly.

"No, he won't," Sirius shook his head, before sighing and stepping back. "But, that's enough about that. I think I'll leave you to your breakfast—Hermione, we should probably head down before anyone notices we're missing."

"Actually," Hermione spoke up, "I'm going to stay for just a bit. After all, I still have a lot I want to talk about with Harry. I'm sure the others won't mind me missing—just tell them I'm off in the library again, they'll probably leave me be then."

Sirius blinked, before shrugging and nodding. "Alright then—don't have too much fun while I'm gone, pup. Two beautiful girls might be a bit too much for you to handle."

He quickly rushed out with a barking laugh as Harry stared back at him, blushing even brighter at the thought. Behind him, Hermione blushed just as brightly and looked between Harry and Tonks, looking like she was now regretting her decision to stay. Tonks, meanwhile, whipped her wand out once more and flashed a stinging hex in her cousin's direction, the spell just splashing against the door as he made a narrow escape.

"I swear, I'm going to jinx that mutt's balls off the next time I see him," she huffed, twirling her wand away.

"Perhaps that's the first thing we can talk about today," Harry suggested with a shrug, before picking up the tray and spreading out the breakfast food the dogfather had brought them out on a nearby table. "Now, then, breakfast, anyone?"

* * *

Breakfast went well, despite the slightly embarrassing beginning. Tonks didn't bother to change out of Harry's oversized shirt, which did little to help Hermione's slight awkwardness in having interrupted her best friend in the middle of…whatever he and Tonks had been up to, alone, in the privacy-locked attic, together. But, as the breakfast began to be consumed and the conversation picked up, the embarrassment mostly disappeared, and Hermione quickly fell into questioning the new couple.

Tonks took the questioning in stride, mostly replying with double entendres and innuendos that left both Harry and Hermione flustered. Harry, meanwhile, tried to be a bit more direct with Hermione, even while flustering under Tonks' jokes, which only seemed to further amuse the metamorph he was sitting beside.

Mostly, though, Tonks spent the breakfast feeling out this newcomer from her new lover's life. It was clear to her that Harry meant a lot to Hermione, but in spite of it, Tonks felt no worries or possessive streaks rise in her. In fact, just seeing how the two of them interacted felt far more like two siblings doting and pecking at each other, rather than some romantic rival Tonks would have to go up against. Which was good, Tonks reasoned.

Better than wasting her one body-hiding-spot, after all.

Tonks paused, then frowned. Perhaps there was _some_ of a possessive streak still running through her…

The rest of the morning went mostly unbothered until the last of the breakfast was polished off. Tonks had just launched into another spiel about how to get back at Sirius—to Hermione's tired disappointment and Harry's eager approval—when the trio jumped at a sudden rapping at the attic window. Tonks leaped to her feet, grabbing her wand and whirling about, only to see a large barn owl standing on the windowsill outside.

Hermione sat up, staring at surprise. "That's odd," she murmured, looking over at Tonks. "I don't recognize that owl—is he yours?"

Tonks shook her head with a frown. "No, he's not."

"I'm guessing owls can't find a place if it's under the…" Harry asked, before frowning as he tried to remember the spell Sirius had mentioned the previous day.

"Fidelius charm, Harry, and precisely," Hermione nodded, now drawing her wand as well as she and Harry stood to follow behind Tonks. "Unless the Secret Keeper gives them permission, like how Dumbledore gave permission to Hedwig, and the other owls of the Order."

Harry frowned, then glanced back at Tonks. "I think Sirius said something yesterday about this room having some gaps in the wards so that he could escape when he wanted to as a teen—maybe that's how the owl found us."

Tonks nodded slowly, her eyes on the owl. "Perhaps…still, stay wary. Like my mentor always says…" She glanced back at the two and gave them a half-hearted smirk, her eyes still focused. "Constant vigilance!"

Turning back around, Tonks quickly unclasped the window and swung it open, her wand still at the ready. As soon as she had, the owl swooped into the room, sailed in a slow loop overhead, and then landed gracefully on the desk at the other end of the room. Clasped in one of the bird's taloned feet was a letter, an official Ministry stamp sealing it shut. Harry, being closest, was the one to step closer and gingerly took the letter from the owl, which screeched thankfully, then shot out the window once more without an answer.

"Harry?" Tonks asked, stepping closer.

Harry's eyes flashed over the letter a moment longer before he smiled and turned back to Tonks, extending the letter to her. "It's from your boss, Director Bones," he clarified.

"Bonesy?" Tonks asked, her wand arm dropping to her side, and she cocked her head to the side as she took the letter. Frowning, she tore into it and pulled the parchment out. "Wonder what she wants now…"

Tonks was silent for a moment as her eyes darted over the parchment. From outside, Harry and Hermione were treated to the stunning sight of her hair shifting quickly with her reactions—first a confused purple, then to a surprised yellow, a flustered orange, and then finally settling back down to a pleasant shade of pink. Harry and Hermione shared a speculative glance, before looking back to Tonks as she folded the letter back up, her face a mask of thoughts.

"So…what did Bones want?" Harry asked.

Tonks blinked and looked back at Harry, her gaze still distant, before she snapped out of it and stood straight. "Huh—oh, right! Nothing too major, don't worry, Bones just wants us to head over to the DMLE sometime today—says she's got some new information for us she wants to go over."

"Really?" Harry blinked. So soon? They'd only just gone to the DMLE the day before with information about Sirius' innocence and the proof that Voldemort had been resurrected—did they already have more to work with so quickly?

Unaware of Harry's inner thoughts, Tonks nodded and placed the note back down on the desk, before turning and walking back over to her clothes that she'd tossed off the night before. "Yep—she didn't say too much specific, but I still think we should go check it out."

With that, Tonks turned to start getting dressed. Harry blushed at the sight and quickly turned away, only to come face to face with Hermione, who—aside from being a bit flustered at the older woman stripping behind them—was staring back at him with a firm gaze.

"Why does the Department of Magical Law Enforcement want to see you, Harry?" she asked in a firm, no jokes allowed tone.

Harry winced reflexively, before settling down and smiling comfortingly at his friend. "It's nothing bad, really—actually, the opposite. We're getting a case together to prove Sirius' innocence. I've already given them my memories from when we met him, and all my memories involving Wormtail. Now we just need whatever the DMLE can gather together."

Hermione's expression quickly shifted into one of elation, before she smiled and hugged Harry suddenly. "Oh, Harry, that's such good news! Hopefully it will get through, then!" She then pulled back, a thoughtful look on her face. "Perhaps I should come along, then—after all, I was there too. I can offer up my memories as further evidence for the case, can't I?"

"Sorry, no can do," Tonks replied, tugging her shirt the rest of the way down as she walked out to stand beside Harry, both now fully dressed. "Bonesy specifically requested just me and Harry come—it's supposed to be a private meeting. I can run the suggestion by her, though, and you can meet next time."

The elation in Hermione's gaze faded a bit, and she sighed as she took a step back. "Oh, alright then—but do keep me updated on any progress, then, alright?"

"Alright," Harry chuckled, scooping up his wand, map, and anything else he wanted to keep on his person. Nodding to Tonks that he was ready to go, he wrapped an arm around her and felt her arm wrap around him as they prepared to disaparate out of the attic. Before they could go, though, he turned back to Hermione going to leave and quickly called out. "Oh, and don't worry about cleaning up the dishes—Dobby will probably take care of it."

"Yes Dobby will, Master Harry Potter sir!" a squeaky voice suddenly called out, making Hermione jump.

"Dobby?! Wait, Master Harry Potter?" Hermione asked, whirling on Harry with a frustrated frown. "Harry James Potter, how dare y—"

They disappeared before she could finish her rebuke, the world spinning wildly around them once more before finally settling on an alleyway nearby the muggle entrance of the Ministry of Magic. Harry held tightly onto Tonks and reached out onto the nearby wall to steady himself, shaking his head slowly to keep the world from spinning too fast. After a minute, he finally gasped and shook himself once more, before frowning over at Tonks.

"Y'know, you keep saying it gets better, and it never does," he muttered.

Tonks rolled her eyes before looping her arm in his and stepping out into the street. "Oh, tough it out, Hero-boy—come on, we've got a meeting to get to."

Though he still grumbled a bit, Harry nodded and fell into step beside Tonks, the trip down to the Ministry quickly feeling more and more like a terrible case of déjà vu. The sight in the lobby was the same as it had been the morning before—wizards and witches bustling about with their papers and such—so Harry's wonderment at the atrium was much less profound, and they quickly made their way over to the elevators, and down to the DMLE's offices.

This time, Johann was more interested in practicing his violin than talking to either Harry or Tonks, so the two enjoyed some soft violin music, giving them both a faint feeling of comfort. When they arrived at the DMLE's level, though, Tonks snapped to attention at the familiar face hobbling their way. Alastor 'Mad-eye' Moody, her mentor, had a surly expression on his already scarred and surly face as he made his way down the main hall.

"Shit, didn't think we'd run into Mad-eye here!" Tonks muttered, before quickly stepping to the side so that she was right in front of Harry, blocking him mostly from sight. Of course, she knew it was a mostly futile effort—but, it was all she could think to do.

Thankfully, it didn't matter in the end—as she moved to position herself between Harry and her fellow Order member's line of sight, Mad-eye suddenly spun and began walking down a nearby hallway. Tonks tensed, listening as his stumbling footsteps became more distant until she was certain that he was far enough away to not notice them. Then, with a relieved sigh, she slumped forward and looked back to Harry with a nervous grin.

"Sorry about that, Harry—Mad-eye's a member of the Order, too, so—"

"Couldn't let him know I was out and about, could we?" Harry finished for her, nodding.

"Exactly," Tonks nodded, turning back down the hall. "Looks like we're clear now, though—wonder what he had to talk to Bonesy about, though?"

Giving the thought a shrug after a moment, Tonks took the lead and walked out of the elevator, followed quickly by Harry. Johann barely gave either of them a nod goodbye before returning to his plucking as the elevator rose behind them. Tonks and Harry ignored him and quickly made his way down the hall—Tonks giving the hall Mad-eye had hobbled down a questioning glance before continuing up to the Director's office.

Like the atrium up above, the office was much the same Harry remembered from the morning before. This time, though, only Director Bones was inside, sitting on a desk that was just a bit more cluttered with paperwork than it had been the day before. Harry also idly noted the Director seemed a bit more exhausted and run ragged, her hawkish stare she cast over them seeming just a bit too tired to be intimidating.

"Thank you for making it," Director Bones sighed, before lifting her wand and swishing it quickly, the door swinging shut behind them and the room suddenly glowing as a few layers of privacy wards were activated around them. "Please," she added, gesturing to the chairs before her desk, "have a seat, both of you—we have a lot to discuss."

The two shared an anxious glance at each other before complying. "Are…you alright, Director?" Tonks asked, keeping her tone cautious and low as she carefully looked her boss over, noting the signs of stress and exhaustion. "You seem…a bit rougher than normal."

For a moment, it seemed as though the DMLE Director was about to snap out at her subordinate, a fire flickering in her eyes over her supposed weakness. As soon as it was, though, the fire was gone, and Madam Bones simply slumped down towards the desk, cradling her head in her hands. Tonks blinked in surprise—she'd never seen Bones so frustrated before, not even with her—but before she could ask the older witch more, Madam Bones slowly pulled herself back up to her full seated height and gave the two of them a weathered scowl.

"No, Auror Tonks, I am not alright," Madam Bones finally stated, before gesturing to the piles of paperwork on her desk. "And I'm afraid I won't be alright for a long while."

"I have had some of my best men assigned to the duty of recovering and collecting any and all paperwork that was related to the capture and imprisonment of Sirius Black." Madam Bones pushed off and away from her desk and walked back to a counter at the back of the office, where a half-emptied bottle of firewhiskey was sitting. "So far, no results have been gathered. There are no accounts of an arrest, of a hearing, not even an account of him being taken to Azkaban in the first place! It's as if it didn't even happen."

"Wait, seriously?" Harry exclaimed, snapping to attention. "If that's true, then how was he even sent there?"

"That's what I'm trying to find out, Mr. Potter," Madam Bones replied, walking back with a large tumbler filled with firewhiskey, which she sipped from as she sat back down in her seat. "Unfortunately, getting answers for that has been almost hairier than finding the paperwork for this whole mess—I've interviewed several of my men who were at the scene of the arrest already, and it seems as though their memories of the situation have been tampered with."

"What?!" It was now Tonks' turn to exclaim, her hair turning a fiery shade of red as she leaped from her seat. "You mean some lying, cheating scum has been messing with our department since before Sirius was arrested?!"

"Nym," Harry murmured, reaching out to take her hand. Tonks flinched and looked back at Harry—though his eyes were burning a bright Avada Kedavra green of rage, he somehow managed to remain composed. "I'm pissed too—but maybe we should listen to whatever else Madam Bones has to say for us before you start flying off the handle and start throwing hexes around."

Tonks took a beat to stare back down at Harry for a moment longer, before sighing and nodding, her hair turning a slight more embarrassed shade of orange at her own explosion. Across from them, the older witch raised a slender eyebrow at the exchange, and the corner of her lips quirked up into a small, knowing smirk.

After a moment of composing herself, Tonks turned back to Madam Bones, a bit keener a gaze in her eyes. "That was why Mad-eye was here just now, wasn't it? You were checking his memories, since he helped bring in Sirius?"

"He was the senior auror in charge of the assignment, in fact," Madam Bones replied with a nod, setting her glass down on the desk. "As such, he was also the one who would've filed the paperwork on the assignment, and left copies both with our own department as well as the Ministry records department. However, not only is the paperwork of the arrest not found in either location, but Moody seems to have his memory fogged over when he would've done the paperwork in the first place."

"This is sounding more and more like a conspiracy," Tonks muttered, frowning.

Harry nodded, before looking back at Madam Bones with a similar frown on his face. "So, if we can't find any of the paperwork, where do we go from here?"

Madam Bones paused, taking another long drink from her glass before responding. "Well, though we don't have a lot to go on, we do still have a bit of evidence—your memories, primarily, Mr. Potter, as well as your parents will that your owl brought to me last night." She gestured to one of the papers on her desk.

"Glad she could get to you, Madam Bones. Also, my friend Hermione suggested she'd offer her memories as well," Harry sharply added, "She was there that same night, and she probably remembers the whole thing a bit better than I did—she's got a pretty sharp mind."

"Well, that will certainly be useful—I'll have to schedule an appointment with her, then, so we can get that memory secured," the Director replied with a nod. "However, memories and the will are not going to be enough—well, the will would be," she quickly amended, noticing their incredulous gaze, "but it will likely only convince a portion of the Wizengamot. What we want is a total victory, a unanimous showing that the decision made fourteen years ago, if there even was one, was a mistake."

She took another pause to drink from her glass. "Actually, the fact that there's so little paperwork on it _might _lend help to our plans—at the very least, it'll prove there's something worth looking into. But, we're still going to need a linchpin, some sort of undeniable form of evidence that proves once and for all that the allegations that were levied against Black—whatever they were, since we don't have access to those allegations—are false."

At that, the three in the office lapsed into a moment of silence, each thinking over what could be used as evidence. Unfortunately, there wasn't much they could think of—with the paperwork gone, there was very little to back track off of, and after fourteen years the trail must've gone cold over whatever had happened in Godric's Hollow and the muggle corner Sirius allegedly murdered several dozen muggles…

Harry blinked, then looked up at Madam Bones. "What about one of his alleged victims?"

Madam Bones looked back to Harry, staring piercingly through her monocle. Her expression suddenly shifted, then, when the full weight of his words landed on her. "Peter Pettigrew, of course!" she exclaimed. "But how would we find him, then?"

"That…I'm not so sure about," Harry admitted, his shoulders sagging. "But…I have a bit of a connection with Voldemort—" Both Tonks and Madam Bones involuntarily flinched, though only slightly, at his mention of the name— "and all throughout last year, I was getting little…flashes of what was going on around him. In them, I saw Wormtail—Peter Pettigrew—so maybe, if I get another…flash, I can find out where Wormtail is, and you can send some aurors to capture him."

Tonks frowned and turned away to bite at her thumb as she thought. "That sounds pretty risky, Harry," she murmured. "For one thing, having your mind connected to his like that spells all kinds of trouble—"

"Though, I might have at least some kind of answer to that," Madam Bones cryptically cut in, before nodding to Tonks. "But please, Auror Tonks, continue."

Though she blinked in surprise at the Director's words, Tonks did continue. "But, along with that, you'd be trying to steal one of Voldy's followers out from right under his non-existent nose. Not just any, either, but one that is essentially his lapdog—how are we going to find him, pin him down, and get him away without alerting the Great Noseless One?"

Harry couldn't help but snort-laugh at Tonks' names for Voldemort, but after a second gave her a noncommittal shrug. "Like I said, it's just a suggestion—and, it's not a good system to begin with. I don't know when I'm getting a flash from him, and I can't control what I see in it. We could find out Wormtail's living on his own in London next week, or we may go several months before finally finding out he's collared to Voldemort's side."

"Still, it's better than nothing, which is what we had before," Madam Bones replied, before giving Harry a small smirk. "And as for your connection…well, I might have an answer for you."

Before Harry could ask what she meant, a figure suddenly appeared beside the DMLE Director. The figure, which he assumed was a man simply by their stature and presence, was wearing a long dark robe with a low-hanging cowl that hid his face from view. In his hands was a rather small chest, perhaps a foot in all dimensions, with an odd sigil over the top. Harry and Tonks both leaped at their appearance, but the Director didn't seem the least bit bothered by their sudden intruder, instead looking over and giving him a smile.

"Thank you, Agent Croaker," she replied, to which the man simply silently nodded and set the chest down on the desk. Then, as suddenly as he had appeared, he was gone once more.

"Damn Unspeakables…" Tonks muttered, her wand still held at the ready, though her hair was starting to fade from startled yellow to her usual pink. "I'll never get used to them…"

"Trust me, you will after about a decade or so," Madam Bones replied with a humorless chuckle. Her face then shifted into one of seriousness as she stood from the desk again. "Now then, about your connection to…him…"

"Voldemort," Harry nodded, sighing as he watched them both flinch, even just slightly, at the name.

"After seeing your accomplishments through the pensieve, I decided to do some further investigation on you, Mr. Potter," Madam Bones elaborated, her hawkish gaze narrowed on Harry now. "I wanted to find out whatever I could that would explain how such a simple young man—regardless of the incredible situation he found himself in when he was barely even a year-and-a-half old—had managed to do all that you have over the past four years since rejoining our world."

"Not so surprisingly, there was little that I could find—similar to the Black case, though in your case, it's likely just because no one was able to keep tabs on you until four years ago. However," Madam Bones quickly added, a spark shifting into her eyes, "I was able to find _something_ of importance through my contacts in the Department of Mysteries…and that was when my attention was brought to this." The Director placed her hand on the chest.

Beside him, Harry felt Tonks suddenly tense.

Harry stared at the chest for a moment, then back to Madam Bones with a frown. "What…what is it?" he asked.

"This, Mr. Potter, is a prophecy." Tonks stiffened, but neither Harry nor Madam Bones paid her any mind as she continued. "Specifically, it is a prophecy about you and he-who-must-not-be-named. I do not know what it says, as only those who the prophecy was directed towards are able to touch and activate the prophecy. However…it might give us some explanation as to the connection between you and…him…"

Harry didn't bother to correct Madam Bones this time, his focus wholly on the chest now. He felt an odd stirring in his chest, somewhere between a fond familiarity that warmed his heart and an angry beehive that had just been jabbed by a sharp stick. It was no secret that he held little regard for the art of Divination, but in this instance, when the trials of his life and the hardships he had faced could finally be explained away…it was worth a trip into the cryptic, barely-understandable branch of magic.

With that in mind, Harry stepped to the desk and opened the chest.

The inside of the chest was lined in soft velvet, cushioning whatever objects were placed inside. It was the object he saw, though, that truly caught his attention—a large glass orb, perhaps the size of a softball, with a smokiness inside of it that reminded Harry distantly of the Remembrall Neville had in their first year. This smokiness, though, seemed to be spinning slowly, and Harry swore he could make out shapes, maybe faces, in the smoke. Beside the orb was a small placard, with a series of letters embossed on it.

_S.P.T to A.P.W.B.D.  
Dark Lord  
and  
(?) Harry Potter_

He looked back to Tonks and Madam Bones. Tonks was staring at the prophecy, a mixture of awe and dread spreading across her face. Madam Bones, however, simply gave him a firm and encouraging nod. So, with a sigh, Harry turned back to the prophecy and hesitantly placed his hand upon the orb's surface.

And all at once, the orb seemed to transform. The smoke swirling within the orb suddenly began to glow an eerie pale-blue, and the images Harry thought he could see in it began to become even more prominent, swirling and moving and taking shape, as a voice he recognized far too well from his third year of Hogwarts began to reverberate around the room they were in.

_"The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches...  
born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies...  
and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not...  
and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives...  
the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies..."_

Harry's eyes widened at the words as they began again, repeating from the top once more, before he quickly pulled his hand back from the orb. Instantly, the blue glow disappeared, as did the voice, though it seemed to him as if it still reverberated around them for several minutes after. Gasping, he turned back to Tonks and Madam Bones, both of whom were staring back at him in shock.

And, for a moment, there was complete silence in the room once more, until Tonks finally put to word the thoughts they each were sharing at that moment.

"Well…fuck."


	11. Chap 11: The Prophecy

**Guess who's got two thumbs and still has his muse? This guy!**

**Hey y'all, the Lonely Lorekeeper here once more with the newest chapter of To Date a Metamorph. This one is a bit shorter—it's a bit of a filler chapter, as well as laying the groundwork for some of my future plans for this story. I'm taking the rest of this story off of the bones that once was Nymphadora's Beau, and taking it into my own headspace. Do I know how that will go, or what will happen? Nope, but all the best of my writing happens by the seat of my pants.**

**...mostly.**

**Anyways, I hope you all enjoy it****—and, if you do, and want more of my style of writing, I'm happy to announce that I have started my own original work! It's called The Legends of Valeron: Into the Unknown, a fantasy-adventure story inspired by Dungeons & Dragons, and something I'm really excited to finally have the inspiration to write. There are two chapters (the prologue and chapter 1) so far. You can find it either on Fictionpress, Fanfiction's sister site, or over on Wattpad. Hope y'all like it!**

**Anyways, that's enough shilling for my own stories****—let's get on with To Date a Metamorph!**

* * *

**Chapter 11: The Prophecy**

"So I'm doomed?"

It had been a fair moment since the prophecy had been retold, though no one had spoken. Madam Bones had taken the moment to take Harry's prophecy from the table and hand it back to Unspeakable Croaker, who appeared just as quickly as before. Harry and Tonks, though, had both just fallen back into their seats, their minds still reeling from the words the prophecy had spoken, Tonks holding Harry's hand as much for his reassurance as her own. When he finally spoke through the silence, though, it caught both witches' attention.

"What do you mean, Harry?" Tonks asked, gripping Harry's hand a bit tighter.

"You heard the prophecy, Nym!" Harry replied with a huff, gesturing over to Croaker—or at least where he'd been before he once more disappeared. "It said, clear as day, that I have to be the one to beat Voldemort, something that I'm pretty sure is impossible!"

"Prophecies are never fully clear, though, Mr. Potter," Madam Bones replied with a sigh, reaching up to clean her monocle as she looked back over at him. "It's the reason so few actually excel in Divination—you can find the right answer if you look at the problem long enough, but far too often wizards and witches simply leap at the first interpretation of the prophecy they can get and run with it."

Harry frowned and slumped back against the back of his seat. "Well then, what other interpretations are there? Because, from where I'm standing, it seems clear to me that I'm doomed here."

"Well, let's go over this prophecy together, and perhaps we'll be able to pull back the layers a bit," Madam Bones replied, pulling out a sheet of parchment and quickly scrawling the prophecy down on it.

"Now then, the only clear part of the prophecy is who it was directed to…or, at least partially," Bones continued, turning the parchment around for Harry and Tonks to read. "You are the only person mentioned by name, so it is referring to you. However, not even the 'Dark Lord' in the prophecy is mentioned by name. So, we have no way of knowing for certain that this is in fact referring to You-Know—" She wavered, before finally saying, with a bit of a flinch, "Voldemort."

Harry smiled weakly at her attempt, before his eyes narrowed on the sheet again. "You say that, but the prophecy states that 'he will mark him as his equal'." Harry reached up and pulled back his bangs, revealing his scar once more. "What does this look like, then?"

"A scar from a terribly rebounded spell," Madam Bones swiftly returned. "And anyways, you shouldn't worry too much about that. If that was all the prophecy was referring to, then this 'Dark Lord' would clearly be Voldemort, but it isn't clear on this. For all we know, this could be referring to Dark Lords that pop up throughout the rest of your life, seeing you as their enemy, or it could be a different figure that's a Dark Lord, but doesn't see themselves as such."

Tonks frowned, looking over the paper herself. "What about the 'defied him thrice' part?" she asked, looking back up at her boss with a wary gaze. "Seems pretty clear there, right?"

"It would…" Madam Bones wavered, "Or, at the very least, it narrows the list of people it could be about to just those who James and Lily Potter rebelled against, or at least stood in defiance against." She then frowned. "But, on the other hand…it could just be referring to how Lily and James' views are in contrast to this Dark Lord's views, in which case it could, again, be anyone."

"So, it really is just completely unspecific?" Harry asked, falling back with a groan. "The only thing we know for certain is that I am the 'chosen one' in the prophecy, and that the one I am destined to fight against could be Voldemort, or some other Dark Lord, or literally every Dark Lord from now until the day I die?"

"And, this is why Divination is such a difficult and conflicted branch of magic," Madam Bones sighed.

Tonks frowned, still staring over the parchment for a moment, biting her lip in thought. For a moment, she was reminded of the other task the Order members had been assigned to over the summer—the task that, apparently, was now utterly useless as she was fairly certain she knew what it was really about. But, if she spoke what she was thinking about, it might put herself and the rest of the Order in danger.

One errant glance to Harry, though, sealed the deal for her.

"There's still one thing we know for certain, at least," she stated, looking back at Harry and Madam Bones. "Even if the prophecy isn't specifically referring to Voldemort..." She paused, getting used to the name, before continuing, "Voldemort clearly thinks it is."

"What do you mean, Auror Tonks?" Madam Bones asked, her eyes narrowing. "As far as we know, he hasn't heard the prophecy—only S. P. T. and A. P. W. B. D. were listed as having been there when the prophecy was spoken, and it's been sealed here since then."

Tonks sighed and bit at her lip, her hair starting to turn a slightly darker, drabber shade of purple. "I…might have an answer for it, just…don't be too pissed, Director."

"I'm listening," she simply replied, though her piercing hawkish gaze remain fixed on her.

Tonks swallowed nervously, before nodding back to her boss and sitting a bit taller. "Well, Madam Bones…over the summer, I have been a part of an organization that was set up to fight back against Voldemort and his forces, doing what we can to slow his rising power before the conflict actually begins. And, one of the things we were tasked with was keeping a watch on the Department of Mysteries and, specifically, the Hall of Prophecies."

She paused, taking a moment to find her words again. "We were told that he would try and steal something from in there...and now, I feel fairly strongly that what he was going to steal was this prophecy. If this is true, then that means that he knows of it, and just enough of what it says to believe he is the Dark Lord mentioned by it."

For a moment, silence reigned in the office once more. Harry stared back over at Tonks in shock—she'd told him a bit about what the Order was doing, but the fact that they had been watching this prophecy made him a bit more anxious—it made him realize just how serious this was. He also knew, at least in part, how much of what the Order did was hidden away from the rest of the Wizarding World. This was a dangerous play she was making—if she revealed the truth to her boss, it could bring the whole house of cards tumbling down on all of them.

Madam Bones, however, simply sat back in her seat. "So, this is why you've been working for such a difficult schedule lately." It was a statement, not a question, and Tonks' hair shifted to duller shade of purple in response. "Well, that answers that question…and I assume Shacklebolt is in that same group?"

Tonks blinked owlishly at her response. "Um…yes, he is…how did you know?"

Madam Bones merely shook her head with a sigh. "Really, Auror Tonks, it's not that hard to tell. He's the only other auror I have that has even as close to as difficult a schedule as you do." Sighing, the DMLE Director shook her head. "On the one hand, I'm furious that you both went behind my back on this…but, on the other, I'm glad that at least two of my aurors are serious about Voldemort's return and trying to do something about it."

"You mean you're okay with this?" Tonks asked, her tone turning hopeful, and her hair to strawberry pink.

Her hopes were quickly dashed by Madam Bones' stern reply, her hawkish eyes blazing with silent fury. "Of course not. Regardless of your reasoning, you still went behind my back and kept this information secret from me. The only reason I'm not considering having you fired this instant is that you're one of the best aurors I have, and what you're doing is, at this point, a lot more good than whatever the DMLE can do with how thoroughly Fudge has disabled us."

"Instead," the DMLE Director continued, "you will be put on a probationary period, without pay, for the next month. In addition, your vacation that you put in time for shall be rescinded effective immediately, and you will be expected to return to duty, filling the missions I have prepared for you."

"What?!" Tonks exclaimed, leaping to her feet. Thoughts and hopes of spending her free time throughout the rest of the summer with Harry, the two of them bonding and growing to understand their relationship with one another, were dashed in an instant, and she spoke and reacted instinctively in response. "Bonesy, you can't do this!"

To her surprise, Harry stood as well. "Nym's right, Madam Bones—I mean, I get that what she did might've been against the rules, but she was only doing what she knew was right! We're heading into a war, shouldn't she be cut some leniency for that, in trying to make certain the war isn't as bad as it could be?"

"Letting Auror Tonks keep her job _is_ my show of leniency, Mr. Potter," Madam Bones sternly shot back, standing from her chair as well. Harry felt the Director's gaze cut down on him, and swallowed hard as he stared back at the older witch. "Like I said, had it been any other auror and any other situation, Auror Tonks would be fired where she stood. I believe in what she's doing, but punishments must be laid out for such insubordination."

"But still, a month without pay?" Harry shot back, standing his ground. "That's ridiculous!"

"My decision is made, Mr. Potter, and it is not up for negotiation," Madam Bones replied. "Now then, would you _kindly _sit down, both of you, so that we may return to the subject at hand?"

Harry and Tonks both still stared at Madam Bones with frustrated and incredulous gazes, but the two slowly sat back down in their seats. The DMLE Director kept her hawkish gaze leveled on them for a moment longer, before she herself nodded slowly and sat back down, taking another long, hard gulp from her glass of firewhiskey. Then, releasing a fiery sigh, she set the glass back down and stared back at the both of them, her gaze slightly less intimidating than before.

"Now then," Madam Bones sighed, "assuming that Auror Tonks' insights are correct—and I have no reason to disbelieve them—then the interpretation of the prophecy matters little. Voldemort has already decided that he is the Dark Lord in question, and as such assumes that Mr. Potter is the only one who can defeat him. And, since he is targeting the prophecy in question, it must mean he only knows so much."

Harry nodded, his frown still in place, though now directed at the conversation more than the Director. "So…I was right, then? I really am doomed here?"

"Not necessarily," Madam Bones replied as she stood suddenly from the table and moved to begin pacing back and forth behind her desk. "Assuming our assumptions here are correct, the situation is that Voldemort heard a portion of the prophecy—just enough to know to target you, Mr. Potter—and acted on what little he knew of it. Now, he knows something went wrong, and he'll be seeking out the prophecy so he can find out what went wrong. He'll be hesitant to do too much before knowing what went wrong first, and how to correct it."

Madam Bones turned back to Harry and Tonks, a faint smirk on her face. "Giving us the time to prepare the counterstrike."

Harry blinked. "Counterstrike?"

The Director nodded. "There is no doubt that you are 'the one with the power to defeat the Dark Lord' in this situation, Mr. Potter—and in acting on what little of the prophecy he heard, Voldemort has cast himself into the role of the Dark Lord. Which means, then, that the 'power he knows not' must also exist, and will be the key to defeating him. Perhaps it is whatever managed to defeat him the first time, perhaps it is something else, but now that we know this, it gives us time to prepare—time to harness that power, and train you in it."

Madam Bones smirked, and she turned her hawkish gaze back over to Tonks again. "Which, of course, brings us back to your punishment, Auror Tonks. For the next two months, until Mr. Potter returns to Hogwarts, you shall be his instructor—I expect you to be on him, night and day, putting him through the same rigorous training that our top aurors go through."

Tonks blinked in surprise, before a wide grin slowly began to spread across her face. "Bonesy, you sneaky witch," she muttered. Before, she had been preparing to make excuses to spend more time with Harry and sneak off to be with him, and here was her boss essentially ordering her to be with him all day, every day for the rest of summer. If her heart could jump for joy, it was doing so right that moment.

It was also planning out several _interesting_ ways to train with her new 'student'.

Madam Bones merely nodded back to Tonks, before looking back to Harry. "I will not lie to you, Mr. Potter, the training Auror Tonks will put you through will be incredibly brutal—but, if you're able to push through it, you'll be more than prepared for whatever Voldemort and his followers throw at you. He will see that he made a mistake in assuming his place in the prophecy, and you will see that you aren't nearly as doomed as you think yourself to be."

Harry frowned, before slowly nodding back to Madam Bones. "Well, if you're certain it'll work, then I accept. I doubt I have much choice either way, but not dying seems a good place to start." He then smirked good-naturedly, turning his gaze over to Tonks with a nervous-yet-eager gaze. "Besides, it can't be any worse than a dragon or a basilisk, can it?"

"Oh trust me, Harry, it certainly can be," Tonks replied with a grin, remembering back to her own training with Mad-eye several years back.

Madam Bones let a faint smirk slip upon her face at their words, before continuing. "While the two of you are doing that, I shall speak with my contacts in the Department of Mysteries. The Wizarding World still has no clue what exactly caused you to defeat Voldemort the first time around—there are guesses, but nothing serious, but it is likely this 'power he knows not'. If anyone can find it out, it would be the Unspeakables. So, don't be surprised if you are called back here to meet with them."

Harry nodded, though a shiver ran down his spine at the thought. The Unspeakable from before had been so quiet and so unnoticeable, it set all of Harry's nerves on end. He was not looking forward to meeting with any of them any time soon.

Tonks didn't seem too excited at the prospects, either, and quickly stood from her seat. "Well, I guess we've got our plans in order, then. Got anything else for us, Boss, or are we free to go?"

Madam Bones raised an eyebrow and slowly nodded. "Yes, that's all I have for the two of you—Mr. Potter, you are free to go. However, Auror Tonks, there are just a few words more I'd like to speak with you before you go, if you would."

Tonks blinked in surprise—what else did her boss have to talk to her about? She'd already given her a dressing-down about her insubordination and affiliation with the Order, and she'd done it in front of Harry, too. What could she have to say now that she didn't want Harry to hear? Still, Tonks complied, and looked over to Harry to give him a 'wait for me outside' glance, which he quickly read and left with a murmured 'thank you' to the Director.

As soon as he left the room, the privacy wards were raised once more.

Madam Bones' posture shifted a bit, then, and her expression became suddenly difficult to read. "Now then, Auror Tonks, I hope you understand that this mission I am giving you does not entitle you to jump young Mr. Potter's bones every chance you get. I expect you to take this mission seriously and train him to the full capabilities of an auror, not just spend the next two months fooling around, understood?"

Whatever Tonks had expected Madam Bones to say, it had not been that. The metamorph's pink hair suddenly shifted to a hot pink before just as suddenly shifting to a flustered orange as she tried and failed to compose herself. "I, um, what? Excuse me?" she stumbled through her words, trying to save face. "I have no idea what you're talking about, Bonesy, I mean, what?"

Madam Bones, however, merely stared flatly back at her.

"Auror Tonks, over the past half hour, Mr. Potter referred to you by the name 'Nym' three separate times, and with a certain amount of familiarity in his tone when he spoke them, and not once did you attempt to correct him. I know you, Auror Tonks, and I know that you disapprove of anyone calling you that name unless you are incredibly, incredibly close to them."

Her eyes narrowed. "I also know that, between this meeting and the one yesterday, the two of you had a certain closeness and familiarity that exceeds that of casual acquaintances. I wasn't born yesterday, Auror Tonks, and though subtle you might think yourself to be, I could see through you."

Tonks' cheeks flushed red, her metamorphic abilities unable or unwilling to stop the blush. "So…you already knew," Tonks huffed, looking away and shaking her head. She then paused, then looked back to Madam Bones with a narrowed gaze. "Wait…if you knew, then why are you letting me be alone with him, for the next two months? Do you…approve of it?"

"Not entirely," Madam Bones replied slowly, leaning back in her seat. "However, I can't deny that you pursuing Mr. Potter romantically has its…benefits. In the past two days, you've managed to unearth more information and evidence for both Black's case and the return of Voldemort than I could've ever imagined, as well as put yourself into a good position to help ensure he becomes everything the Wizarding World needs from its Chosen One."

Madam Bones then shrugged, her serious nature falling away like a veil being lifted. "And, as much as we'd like to imagine him as just a boy still, it's clear that he's far from that. The things he's seen, and the things that fate itself seems certain to throw at him, have matured him much faster than any of his peers—and he'll need someone strong to help him through it all. It's why I'm assigning you to this mission—both to push him, and support him."

"I…see," Tonks replied, staring owlishly back at her boss. "So, then…you approve…" She shook her head finally. "Well, alright then…was there anything else you needed of me, Boss?"

"Just try to be a bit more subtle about your relationship with Mr. Potter, Auror Tonks," Madam Bones replied with a nod. "The last thing we need is a scandal like this to get out to the public. Keep it close to the chest, and safe from prying eyes and ears, and you'll be good to go."

"Yes, ma'am," Tonks nodded sharply back, giving her a salute reflexively before turning away and walking back out of the office, a noticeable haste in her step that had not been there before.

Madam Bones merely smirked as her subordinate walked out, before finally letting the privacy wards of the office drop. At the same time, she fell back into her seat, the weight of the meeting finally resting on her. The past twenty-four hours had been some of the most exhausting of her career, and if she were a betting woman—and, those that knew her best knew that she was—she had a feeling that there were many more equally exhausting days ahead of her. But then again, such was the cost of war.

Sighing, she pushed off of her desk and began gathering the paperwork and files strewn about it and organizing them slowly. As she did, her mind continued moving onward to the next parts of their plans. Perhaps, once she was done here, she would head over to the Department of Mysteries and speak to Croaker about this investigation she wanted his team to look into. And, perhaps while she was there, she could suggest placing a decoy prophecy in place of the real one.

Better safe than sorry, after all.

* * *

The trip out of the Ministry ended up being much quieter and much longer than the trip in had been. Tonks had seemed oddly subdued, and whenever Harry asked her about it, she merely shook her head in reply, giving him a look that said they'd talk about it in a moment. It gave Harry no end of concern for the normally bubbly and outspoken metamorph—whatever she had heard from her boss must've been jarring for her to be so withdrawn for their whole trip back, until they finally found a good alley to apparate from.

As soon as they apparated back to the attic, however, Harry quickly found himself falling backwards onto his bed, before immediately being joined by Tonks, who flopped down onto the bed and wrapped her arms around his chest, pulling him close against her.

"Oh, Merlin," Tonks muttered, shaking her head slowly. She looked back to Harry, her distracted and subdued gaze from before now much more clear and at ease. "Sorry about the cold shoulder back there, Lover-boy, just got a bit of a light reprimand from Bonesy that we should probably try to keep our relationship a bit more well-hidden for now."

Harry blinked in surprise, slowly pulling back. "Well-hidden? Wait, Madam Bones knows about us?"

Tonks nodded. "Apparently—she is a very skilled auror, or at least she was in her day, so she could figure us out." She sat up a bit more on the bed and sighed, her hair slowly shifting to purple as she spoke. "She doesn't disapprove of it, but she did suggest that we should really work a bit harder at keeping it a secret for now. Which was the reason for that sort of cold reception back there."

Harry frowned, shifting about on the bed and leaning away from Tonks to lay back against the pillows piled against the headboard. "Well, that sounds wonderful—so, we can only be 'together' here?"

"Oh no, no! We just have to worry about it while at the Ministry," Tonks quickly replied, moving over on the bed to lay beside him again. "You gotta understand it from mine and Bonesy's point of view, Harry—right now, the Ministry has been pushing for a smear campaign against you in the papers, while Fudge has been trying to impair the DMLE every which way he can. If he found out that you were 'being seduced' by one of the DMLE's aurors, it would be the scandal to end all scandals—it would be harmful for you, me, and the DMLE."

"Lovely," Harry dryly replied, even as he swallowed hard at the implications.

Tonks, however, smirked wickedly at him, sending a shiver—the good kind—down his back. "Luckily for you, though, Lover-boy, your sexy and talented girlfriend just so happens to be a metamorphmagus, masters of disguise. So, if we ever want to go out someplace that might draw attention to us, I can simply shift shape so that I look a bit more age-appropriate."

As she stated that, Tonks' figure quickly began to shift and change before Harry's eyes—her face became softer and a slight bit more rounded, while her figure seemed to shrink by several inches and became a fair bit less curvy than before. Within seconds, Tonks went from appearing like a woman in her twenties to looking no older than Harry himself, though she still _looked _like Tonks in the vaguest of terms—if anything, she looked as Tonks would've had Harry known her while she was still in Hogwarts.

Which, if that were the case…she would've easily knocked any and all of his former crushes out of the water.

Tonks smirked at Harry's expression and carefully ran a hand through her hair, tucking a few locks behind her ear. "Like I said, masters of disguise," she repeated with a wink—even her voice sounded like a younger version of herself, much to Harry's surprise.

"No kidding," Harry replied. "So, this is what you looked like back in Hogwarts?"

"More or less," Tonks replied with a shrug, before hopping up from the bed and moving around so that she was standing towards the center of the attic. "I may have added a few cosmetic details here or there, but all in all, this was Tonks, fifth year—what do you think, Lover-boy?"

With that, the metamorph standing in the center of the room struck a bit of a provocative pose for the young wizard watching her, shooting him a flirtatious wink as she did. All of which probably would've had a very flustering or arousing response from the easily flustered Harry, if it weren't for the fact that she mostly looked like a teenager wearing her—albeit very cool—mother's clothes, as none of them really fit her right. Instead, Harry just stifled his own amusement at her pose.

"I like it," Harry managed to reply, before a genuine smile slipped across his face. "Though, if I'm being honest, I think I'd much prefer the real you."

Tonks smiled back at him, before a devious glint entered her gaze. "Oh really? Lover-boy isn't all that into girls his age when he can be with older, more experienced ladies?" she lightly teased as she walked back up to him, her body shifting back into her usual form as she spoke. "This is why we've got to be so careful, Harry—why, if word got out that the Chosen One was into older women, why, who knows how many loveless ladies or black widows would try to seduce you for themselves?"

Harry blushed at Tonks' implications but still chuckled in reply, lightly tossing one of the pillows at her in retaliation. "Oh, shove off it, Nym, that's not why I like this form more."

"Oh, and what is then, Lover-boy, if not your obvious attraction to a more mature and experienced woman?" Tonks replied, smiling back at him.

Her smile, though, disappeared with his next words.

"Because it's you, Nym," Harry simply replied. "I mean, I know it's you no matter what you look like, or how you're presenting yourself, but this you here right now is the one I know the best. It's the one you're comfortable with, and so it's who you are. I don't know if I'd be as crazy for the other Tonkses that you'd have to pretend to be in order to be seen with me if you can't be comfortable in them and be totally you."

He then paused, before sheepishly adding, as he looked to the side, "Though, I will admit that the real you is easily ten times hotter than your 'teen-Tonks' self you showed me, so I might have a bit of an older woman thing after all…"

Harry turned his attention back to Tonks as he chuckled sheepishly at his words. Tonks, however, stared silently back at him, before a soft, genuine smile slipped onto her face. "Is that really how you think of me, Harry?" she asked, and Harry was surprised by the softness in her tone.

Harry, however, merely smiled back to her. "Yeah, that's how I feel. I mean, I know it's only been a short time, but—I really love the you I've gotten to know, and any other you you'd have to pretend to be, any kind of mask you'd have to put up to please others, wouldn't be the same."

Tonks' smile grew with Harry's words, and a faint blush dusted her cheeks for a moment before she reined it back in. "Geeze, Lover-boy, keep talking like that and you might find yourself getting very lucky in the near future," Tonks lightly teased, shooting Harry a wink as she flopped back down onto the bed beside him once more. "Such a charmer—how have you not been with more girls before me?"

Harry rolled his eyes, unable to keep the smile from slipping onto his face at Tonks' teasing. "I guess I just wasn't that charming to them—now then, if we're done discussing my past failures with romance, maybe we should discuss this training regimen Madam Bones wants you to put me through."

"Fine, fine," Tonks replied, waving her hand at Harry's words. "I suppose I should—after all, you will be going through it starting tomorrow, you should know what to expect, and what you'll be going through…"

The metamorph then suddenly stood up, stretching exaggeratedly as she did so. "But first! I'm absolutely starving—how about we go get a bite to eat, and we can discuss the training plans for the summer over lunch?"

If Harry even thought of arguing with Tonks on the matter, his stomach quickly disagreed with him by making itself known. The young wizard chuckled awkwardly, to which Tonks could only roll her eyes and smile affectionately, before reaching over to him, wrapping her arm around his waist, and pulling him close to her again. With another flirtatious wink, she spun the two of them on their heels and disappeared out the attic once more.

* * *

Dumbledore stared in shock at his desk, his eyes fixed on one of the trinkets in particular—a pendulum object made of several orbs suspended by strings, and which would flash various colors of the rainbow as the orbs knocked into each other. Or, at least, it was supposed to—at the moment, however, the trinket was completely motionless, one of the orbs suspended mid-motion, each of the orbs frozen on a different color.

It wasn't the only trinket that was no longer active, either—there was a clock that was connected to the wards Dumbledore had set up surrounding Harry's mailflow, keeping him from being bathed in the inordinate amounts of fanmail and legal documents that would only give a boy like him a big head, that was now silent, both hands pointed down to the six, while a teapot that released puffs of pastel-colored steam, tied to the bloodwards surrounding Privet Drive, was puffing terribly slowly, slower than even when Harry was at Hogwarts.

This, of course, bothered him, but his focus was more on the pendulum. That device was connected to the ward he'd carefully set up around the prophecy—a ward that would alert him should someone attempt to take it. It was an extra precaution he'd set up as soon as he'd heard the prophecy himself, with the Order members watching the Hall of Prophecies his newest line of defense, now that he knew Tom would be out searching for answers.

And…it was now unactive, unresponsive.

Dumbledore stood frozen for a moment longer before instantly spinning around from his desk and rushing towards the floo. "Ministry of Magic, Atrium," he spoke in a flurry of words, tossing in the green powder and running through it before the emerald green flames had even finished consuming the fireplace.

So it was that a slightly singed Dumbledore rushed out into the atrium at the Ministry of Magic, causing several of the other passersby to look at him in shock and confusion. He barely took a moment to put out his robes and fix them up with a few casually cast spells before he began hurrying off again, not stopping his flow of motion forward as he moved through the crowds and towards the elevators that would take him down into the Department of Mysteries.

He paid the elevator attendant barely any mind the whole way down, his mind instead reeling with the possibilities of what might've happened. How had Tom gotten to the prophecy? It was the middle of the morning still—there was no way he would've risked himself like that. Perhaps he'd send one of his followers to fetch it—but that would mean they could pick it up, and only those who worked in the Department or were the subject of the prophecy could touch the objects themselves.

His eyes narrowed, and his hand moved to his wand, fingers gripping onto it in a white-knuckled grasp. Had one of the Department switched over to Tom's side? It was certainly possible, but it was not a possibility Dumbledore wanted to believe in.

In case it was so, though…he was prepared for whatever came of it…

As soon as the elevator came to a stop on the Department's level, Dumbledore rushed out, eyes blazing as he hurried down the hall. A few of the Unspeakables on the level looked his way, but he ignored them—if any asked, he could simply say that he was here to speak with the head of their department. After all, he and Croaker had been friends and comrades a fair few years ago.

Rounding the corner up to the Hall of Prophecies, Dumbledore caught sight of Kingsley Shacklebolt standing off to the corner, the invisibility cloak offered to those tasked with watching the hall draped over him like a shroud. Of course, with Dumbledore's extensive knowledge in magicks, he could easily see through the simple magicks that made up the invisibility cloak and see Kingsley standing there.

It also helped to have glasses that had that particular charm, as well.

Kingsley seemed to stiffen as he noticed Dumbledore approaching, and as the old wizard drew near, he whispered, "Dumbledore? What are you—?"

"Phoenix song, my dear boy, phoenix song is the passcode," he murmured in reply, not slowing for a moment. "The prophecy has been compromised, Kingsley."

There was a sudden shuffling and a murmured 'shit!' from the corner, before Kingsley tore off the invisibility cloak and fell into step beside Dumbledore, his own hand dropping to his wand. "Damn it, I can't believe I didn't notice them—do you think they're still here?"

"I would hope so," Dumbledore murmured, looking anxiously back behind them before sliding the door of the Hall open and slipping the both of them in as quickly as could be. "If we can recover the prophecy before Voldemort can get to it, all the better."

Kingsley nodded, and together the two of them moved in silence within the odd, iridescent room. They moved slowly, their footfalls making no sound at all, as they crept between the aisles and rows of prophecies, their eyes narrowed for even the slightest sign of movement in the dark. More than once, Kingsley turned quickly, eyes narrowed and wand drawn, but held back from releasing a spell—it had just been his nerves standing on end, nothing more.

At last, the two found themselves at the row of prophecies that Harry's prophecy was supposed to be at. Dumbledore cast a hurried glance over the shelf, hoping beyond all hope that it was still there, though somehow he knew that he would only end up disappointing himself…

And then…he paused.

The prophecy was sitting right there. Right there, on the shelf, right in front of the placard that stated who it was about and who had stood as witness to it. There was even still a faint veneer of dust resting on the prophecy's surface, a sign that it had surely gone completely undisturbed since the very moment that the prophecy had been uttered into existence. Somehow, some way, the ward had fallen…but the prophecy remained.

"Dumbledore?" Kingsley asked, looking back to the older wizard with a frown, before looking back at the shelf again. "Is that the prophecy?"

Dumbledore slowly nodded. "Yes…it is…" he murmured. Frowning, he held up his wand, a faint glow emanating from its tip. For a moment he concentrated on the orb, frowning as he tried to discern if this might be some trick, but he could find no fault in the orb. Clearly, it was exactly what he thought it to be, and so his wand dropped to his side, and he sighed slowly. "It seems, then, that this was a false alarm…"

"A false alarm?" Kingsley asked, frowning at the prophecy, before looking back to Dumbledore. "I thought it was supposed to be infallible? What could cause this?"

Dumbledore merely shook his head slowly, frowning at the question himself as he turned away from the shelf, his mind spinning. The trinkets on his desk, the connections to his ties to Harry, were all slowly dropping and failing left and right…something wasn't right here. Was it something he'd done? He'd supposed himself to be infallible, to have the right answer always, but…perhaps, this time, he'd made a mistake?

"I don't know…but I'm certain I will find out…"


	12. Chap 12: The Mad-eye Method

**'Sbeen a while, hasn't it?**

**Hello everyone once again, the Lonely Lorekeeper is here with another new chapter of To Date a Metamorph. Sorry for taking so long, I've been playing around with a few new schedules for writing so that I can get stories out as quickly as possible. The answer I came to, at long last, was to write 1,000 words a day for each of my stories. Since each of my chapters is about 6,000 words long, that means I should be able to get a chapter out every week****—I say should, mostly because this means I am writing 3,000 words a day all told, and who knows how long I'll be able to keep that going.**

**Anyways, since I'm doing this, today I am also updating my two other stories, His Loyal Pet and The Legends of Valeron: Into the Unknown. HLP is over here on Fanfiction, and the seventh chapter is coming out today, while TLoV is over on Fictionpress****—Fanfiction's sister site****—and Wattpad. Go ahead and give them a read, too****—****especially The Legends of Valeron, it is my passion project of the past five years and I'm so happy to finally be writing it at last!**

**Anyways, I hope y'all enjoy the new chapter! Let's get to it!**

* * *

**Chapter 12: The Mad-eye Method**

After enjoying their lunch in a nearby park—some sandwiches and chips they'd bought from a small open air café—Harry and Tonks had spent the rest of the day getting whatever supplies Tonks felt they would need for Harry's training. They kept at a rather comfortable pace through the rest of the day, but Harry couldn't deny being a bit curious of what would be awaiting him the next day after seeing what Tonks was collecting. Tonks, however, simply winked at him whenever he asked about it and promised he would find out tomorrow.

His curiosity was even further piqued when, once they got back to their attic-bedroom, Tonks immediately moved over to one of the empty storage rooms with all that she'd brought with them. When Harry tried to see what she was up to, she quickly closed the door and stated that it was part of the training surprise for tomorrow. Harry was a bit concerned, but eventually he relented and went to working on some of his homework—he had quite a bit still to do before the summer was over.

Once Dobby had brought up dinner for the night, and Tonks was finished with…whatever her project had been, the two enjoyed the rest of the evening chatting amicably—this time, Harry asking about what it was like being an auror, and how Tonks had decided it was the path for her. Of course, one thing led to another, and their chatting turned to snogging, as well as testing the durability of the bed several times over, before the two of them finally slipped away into another night of peaceful sleep.

"Up and at 'em, Hero-Boy!"

A peaceful sleep that was suddenly broken by Tonks' shout and an explosively loud booming sound that shook the walls of the attic and nearly knocked Harry out of his bed. The bedraggled fifth year looked wildly around, before realizing he couldn't see anything without his glasses, and quickly slapped them onto his face so that he could see what was going on.

Standing across from him, her hair now a cool lavender and worn back in a high ponytail behind her, was Tonks. Rather than her usual choice in fashion—leather jacket, punk rock band shirt, and ripped jeans—Tonks was wearing a rather well-fitting set of muggle exercise clothes. His girlfriend smirked back down at him and held her wand over her head again, the tip glowing before another massive, explosive sound made the room shake once more.

"Come on, Hero-boy, time to get to work!" Tonks declared once more, letting her wand drop and cocking her head playfully to the side. "We've got a very busy day ahead of us, so let's start burning that candle at both ends and get this show on the road!"

Harry blinked blearily in surprise, rubbing his hand over his eyes to ensure that he wasn't, in fact, dreaming this strange situation up. To his disappointment, the vision of Tonks threatening him with training didn't disappear. So, with a low groan, the black-haired chosen one slowly slumped back in bed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Nym, can't we wait until after breakfast?"

"No can do, Hero-boy," Tonks quickly snapped back, resting a hand on her hip as she strode up to him. "Bonesy told me to put you through the standard auror training regiment these next two months and that's what I intend to do—starting with a quick workout at five-thirty in the morning. Once you're done with your workout, you can have breakfast."

"Five-thirty?" Harry asked, his voice nearly coming out as a shout as he sat bolt-upright in bed. His hand fumbled for his wand and he cast a quick Tempus spell. Sure enough, the cloud that formed from the tip of his wand read five-thirty in the morning clear as day.

He was suddenly and intensely reminded of Quidditch training with Oliver Wood during his first three years.

"Nym, you can't be serious!" Harry exclaimed.

"Sure I can, Hero-boy, just watch!" Tonks replied with a devilish smile, before her face suddenly morphed into that of his shaggy godfather, making Harry sit up a bit straighter once more. "Now then, Harry, you can either train with me, or you can train with me wearing Sirius' face, but either way you are training! You agreed to it yesterday, so get a move on!"

"Alright, alright, shift back to normal and I'll get ready," Harry finally groaned out.

With that, Harry pushed up out of bed, quickly realized he was still naked from the previous night's activities, and bashfully began looking around for a change of clothes, noting a set of muggle workout clothes already laid out for him on the dresser. Behind him, Tonks cheered in success, before stepping back and not-so-subtly ogling him as he changed into the set of workout clothes that, like with Tonks, fit him rather nicely. While hers were a light grey and purple, his were a black and red.

"Looking pretty sharp, Hero-boy," Tonks commented with a smirk, before striding over to the far side of the attic where the window leading out to the balcony and the muggle fire escape was located and looked back over to Harry. "Now then, let's get a move on—auror trainees always start each day with a five-mile run, and it's looking like the perfect day for it!"

Harry groaned, the similarities between Wood's early morning training sessions and the auror training regiment sounding more and more similar with every word that left Tonks' lips. Still, he quickly pulled on a pair of running shoes Tonks had gotten for him the day before and fell into step behind her as they walked out the window onto the balcony and began making their way down the fire escape.

Tonks seemed to note Harry's mood, though, and she gave him a smile. "Oh, buck up, Harry—trust me, it may be a bit rough at first, but after a couple of weeks you might actually look forward to it. And, besides, you're lucky enough to have your instructor be your incredibly sexy girlfriend, who can promise you some very nice rewards if you do well~"

She ended her reply with a bit of a flirtatious wink, and Harry's mind began to wander a bit on what exactly Tonks might offer Harry if he 'did well'. Harry quickly shook his head, his cheeks now a bit pinked—though that could just as easily be from the slightly cool morning air as it could from her suggestive comment—and he nodded back to Tonks.

"Alright then, Nym, let's get on with it then."

Beaming back at him, Tonks turned and walked the both of them out of the alleyway that the fire escape dropped down into. As soon as she reached the end of the alley, though, she shot Harry a sly wink over her shoulder and took off down the sidewalk, nearly leaving Harry in the dust. Harry blinked in surprise, before quickly realizing that this, perhaps, was part of the training as well—that, or she was simply goading him on. Either way, it was working, and Harry bolted out after her down the quiet, barely-awake city street.

Tonks was remarkably fast, her body morphing into a fit and slender build that cut down the city street in a nimble dash. As she glanced back behind her, though, she found Harry quickly catching up to her—years of 'Harry Hunting' and running from all kinds of danger paying off in big dividends as his slender figure sprinted after her. Tonks' hair flashed a bright yellow of surprise, before her grin widened and she turned back around and hurried off down a nearby street corner.

Harry dashed after her, his heart pounding in his ears as he rounded the corner, catching her figure out of the corner of his eye and quickly keeping up the pursuit. The cool morning air burned slightly as he took great breaths in—while he had a history of being fast, he didn't run for very long. Wood had them run in the mornings, but that hadn't been for a few years now, and he could feel the lack of training making it a bit harder on him. Still, he pushed on—he didn't want to give Tonks the satisfaction of him losing so poorly.

Their run continued on for the next thirty or so minutes, with Tonks staying well ahead of him, but not so far that he couldn't see and keep up. Still, she changed directions and turned so suddenly that at times it was hard to keep up, and Harry found his lungs and legs burning by the time they were done, ending in the alleyway outside of Grimmauld Place, Harry dropping back against the wall with a gasping sigh.

"Not too shabby, Hero-boy," Tonks commented, pulling out a muggle stopwatch and clicking it off, checking the time with a nod. "You ran a bit out of steam there in the middle for a bit, but that's just a stamina problem that we'll be able to fix with time. Other than that, for a first run, you did above average by auror trainee standards."

"Wonderful," Harry wheezed, shooting a frown back up at Tonks. "Now, would you mind explaining why the 'morning run' was like that? Last I checked, morning runs are just supposed to wake you up and get your blood pumping, not make you feel like you're in the middle of some frantic chase scene."

"And what gets your blood pumping better than a frantic chase scene?" Tonks asked. At Harry's flat expression, though, Tonks continued.

"Actually, there is a good reason why the run is like that. It's all part of the auror training regiment, like I said before—or, as I like to call it, the Mad-eye Method." Tonks beamed over at Harry. "It's a serious training regiment that my mentor, Mad-eye Moody, put in place in the DMLE before he retired. The goal of the regiment is to not only get you physically strong enough for auror duty, but also to hone your reflexes so that you're ready for literally anything."

Tonks chuckled awkwardly after a moment and rubbed the side of her neck. "Actually, if we had been doing the actual Mad-eye Method version of that run, you would've been the one out front, and I would've been throwing jinxes and hexes at you that you would have to dodge."

"What?!" Harry asked in shock.

"But, since we're only starting you out, and we're out in almost-broad-daylight, in the middle of a muggle city street, I figured it would be better if I adjusted that particular part of the method—at least, for now," Tonks added with a slightly devilish smirk. "Like I said, the method's supposed to train you in both body and mind, get your muscles strong and your reflexes fast."

"Sounds lovely," Harry muttered, groaning as he pushed himself back up into a standing position, his legs still burning a bit.

"Well, it was designed by Mad-eye, after all," Tonks replied with a chuckle, walking over and wrapping an arm around Harry's back to help him along. "Come on now, there's still more ahead we've still to do, and I don't want you dropping on me just yet, alright?"

Harry groaned but nodded back to her, holding on as Tonks suddenly apparated them back up into the attic bedroom—which, was a good thing, as at the moment, Harry wasn't quite sure he could climb up the fire escape. Of course, his legs weren't any better as they got back into the bedroom, and he quickly found himself collapsing back onto the bed with a low 'flumph' of momentary exhaustion.

Tonks didn't seem to mind too much, as she moved over and began getting things together for the next stage of the training session. "But, first things first," she announced suddenly, looking back to Harry, "I think I mentioned getting you breakfast once the morning workout was done, right?"

Harry perked up a bit at the mention of breakfast and nodded, and Tonks smiled back at him. "Well, I'll see if I can get Dobby to whip us both up some breakfast—we'll eat that, and then move on to the rest of the regiment." She paused, then added with a slightly sly smile. "And why don't you also freshen up a bit, in the shower—that way, you're starting fresh on the next part."

The sound of a fresh warm shower sounded very nice indeed to Harry, who pushed himself back up off of the bed and hurried over to the bathroom—why there was a bathroom in the attic, he hadn't the foggiest, but he was thankful for it nonetheless.

He had just changed out of his running outfit, climbed into the shower, and turned the water to the right heat he wanted, though, when he found himself suddenly interrupted by the sound of the bathroom door opening and shutting. Before he could do anything, the shower curtain parted and Tonks appeared, standing just as naked as him, and with that same sly look on her face. Harry blushed furiously, looking back to Tonks with surprise.

"Nym, what the hell—?" he asked, before she smirked back at him and stepped closer.

"Well, I did say you'd get a reward if you did well, didn't I, Lover-boy~?" she asked, letting the curtain fall closed behind her as she moved to join Harry inside the shower stall.

After getting a very thorough cleaning in the shower, one that left both Harry and Tonks very satisfied and refreshed, the two stepped out to find that Dobby had left their breakfasts waiting for them on a table near their bed. He also noticed his small friend had gone and taken their clothes to be cleaned, and had even made his bed for him. He smiled and shook his head, once more reminded of how glad he was to have a friend in the small house elf.

The two ate quickly, and once they were done, Tonks turned and shot a wink over to Harry. "Well, now that we're done with your warm-up and breakfast, it's time to show you what you'll be doing for the next two months."

With that, Tonks stood from where she was sitting and began walking over to the room she had been working in the day before, beckoning Harry to come along. Harry, his interest piqued, grabbed up his wand and quickly followed after her. He glanced to Tonks, who merely shot him a wink, before walking through the doorway…and instantly staring in shock at what he saw.

Harry had been in this room a few times when he'd first moved into the attic—they'd ended up having to use some of its space for storing the boxes and belongings that had been left there by Sirius' family. Now, though, those belongings were gone, as was most of the room as Harry remembered it.

Instead of the small storage room that was barely more than eight feet wide and eight feet deep, the door Harry walked through led into a room that was easily ten times that length, and with a high vaulted ceiling. An obstacle course of sorts ran around the length of the room, while the center of the room was divided in two. The first half was filled with different weight-lifting and physical training equipment, while the second was bare save for a large ring with a single dividing line down the middle—a dueling circle.

Tonks smirked and walked up to Harry's side, resting a hand upon his shoulder. "Pretty impressive, ain't it? It's not exactly like what the DMLE has for us aurors to train with, but it's as good a start as any. Mind you, it's the bleeding edge of what I could do without breaking the wards around this level—expanding the room any further would've ruptured the privacy wards entirely, and I doubt you'd want that."

"The DMLE have something larger than this?" Harry asked incredulously.

"Of course! Though, to be fair, they've got to train a lot more that just a single chosen one, Hero-boy," Tonks stated, smirking as she walked out to stand before him, crossing her arms in a firm, serious stance. "Anyways, here is where the real part of your training—of being put through the Mad-eye Method—will really begin."

"Every day, from the end of breakfast until lunch, you'll be working out in here—half your time will be spent on the machines, the other half will be spent running the obstacle course, and both will have a few extra special features the help hone your reflexes, so be weary of that, too. Then, after lunch, your time will be divided between me teaching you all the spells and techniques you'll need to know to succeed, and the two of us dueling. And then, after dinner, you'll be doing yoga to unwind and cool down from the rest of the day."

"You will get breaks after nightly yoga and on the weekends, but other than that, you will be working non-stop for the next two months," Tonks finally stated, staring back at Harry with a smirk on her face. "By the time we're done, you'll physically be rookie auror material, and with my extra training, you'll have the smarts and reflexes to more than hold your own. So, then, Harry, are you ready?"

Harry stared at Tonks a moment, his eyes having gone wide from the list of tasks and training sessions he was about to go through. At her words, though, he shook himself back into focus, and looked back at her. He paused, then sighed. It sounded tough…but he knew that it might be his best bet to be ready for what he was now destined to do. And, besides, it wasn't as if he was a stranger to rough, painful situations.

"Alright, I'm ready," Harry nodded, looking back to Tonks with a firm nod. Tonks smiled, before her smile shifted into a slightly harder smirk, and she drew her wand to her side at the ready.

"Then let us begin, Hero-boy."

* * *

Miles away, unaware of the exhaustive training Harry was about to go through, Albus Dumbledore slowly paced back and forth within his office at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Though it was now almost a full day since his scare with the prophecy orb, his mind still remained troubled, especially in regards to the wards and trackers he had focused on Harry and anything of importance to his plans for him.

Three wards. Three of Harry's wards had either broken or gone off in the past three days—the indicator connected to Harry's trace had gone off and then broken the very next day, the ward surrounding and filtering Harry's mail had been left inert, and the barrier he'd set up around the prophecy had been broken just the other day, even though the prophecy itself had remained. Something very odd was going on, something he didn't know about, and if there was one thing Dumbledore hated most it was not knowing.

Frowning, Dumbledore hurried over to his desk where the rest of his trinkets tied to wards and spells remained. Only a few still remained in operation, but he was thankful to note that the trinket indicating he was still at Privet Drive was still active, as was the trinket that indicated that the wards were still surrounding Privet Drive. The wards were a bit weaker than he would've preferred, but after what Harry had been through the previous year, he didn't find it too surprising.

What was surprising was the trinket that was tied to his physical well-being—an odd hourglass with sand that changed colors depending on how well he was feeling, and changed speeds depending on whether he was under duress or at ease. At the moment, the hourglass was at an odd flux—the sand's color was a vibrant green, not the best color on the spectrum, but better than he had been in the past. However, it was spilling out into the bottom half at an alarming rate, much faster than he'd ever noted it before.

Dumbledore's eyebrows furrowed, and he pushed back from the desk again. Physically, Harry was well, but he seemed under stress or duress that was much worse than he'd ever seen before. He knew that Harry needed to work through his grief but…was something else wrong with him?

Frowning, Dumbledore turned and focused on the wards surrounding Hogwarts itself, before turning on his heels and apparating through the one small gap that only the headmaster of the school could find and use. In a blur of colors and lights, Dumbledore came to a stop behind the large hedge outside of Arabella Figg's house, taking a moment to steady himself, before beginning to walk down the street towards the Dursleys.

He needed to check up on Harry.

Before he'd even gone more than ten feet down the road, Dumbledore's robes and clothes quickly shifted in appearance to become a rather nice—if not vibrantly colored—suit and tie, so that he would stick out a bit less than before. Wandless transfiguration came easily to him, and while it was a complex spell, any Muggles who might've seen him walking along down the street would've only seen his wizard robes for a second before blinking and seeing the man dressed, if a bit loudly, more muggle-like.

His appearance in check, Dumbledore moved down the road before arriving outside of the Dursley home. He sighed, stopping beside a nearby tree, slipped his hands into his pockets, and stated casually, "Good morning, Alastor."

There came a low grunt of reply from nearby, and suddenly standing beside him was Alastor 'Mad-eye' Moody, the former auror leaning hard on his walking cane. Dumbledore didn't bother to look over to him, but even so, he knew his old friend had a wand trained on him.

"Hello, Albus, if that is who you are. Question—the most fortuitous of victories…"

"…are often born in the fiercest of flames," Dumbledore softly finished, nodding.

Moody nodded back to him and surreptitiously slipped his wand back into its holster. "So, what brings you out here, Albus?"

"I am here, my friend, because I had a feeling I must check in on Mr. Potter," Dumbledore stated, his voice still soft, his mind going back to the trinkets out on his desk. "There have been a lot of odd situations in the past few days that are closely connected to him, and I felt it only right that I check in on him and ensure that he is still well."

Moody frowned and looked over to Dumbledore. "And here I thought you said we shouldn't disturb him, Albus—the boy needs to grieve by himself, that's what you said."

"And so he must," Dumbledore replied, though his voice sounded a bit hollow—after the last few days, he was beginning to feel as if he didn't know for certain on a lot of things— "However, he will not even notice I am there. I am, as you are likely well aware, very good at keeping from being noticed."

Moody gave Dumbledore and his bright purple, pink, and lavender suit a quick glance, before chuckling and shaking his head. "Whatever you say, Albus—go on in, the muggles are out for the day, and Potter's up in his room. He's been there all day, not really moving too much. He's probably trying to sleep the day away."

Dumbledore nodded, taking Moody's advice into account as he walked up towards the Dursley's house. He felt the wards of protection, a bit fainter than normal, and passed through them with ease. So, too, was it with ease that he managed to unlock the door, before gliding inside and letting it quietly shut behind him. He gave the entrance a small glance, before turning his attention up to the stairs, and began a silent climb up towards Harry's bedroom.

Before he'd even walked inside, Dumbledore was brought up short—the door had several locks on it, locks that could only be accessed from the outside. There was also a large flap across the bottom portion of the door, as if for a cat to walk through—but, from what the Order members had told him, the Dursleys didn't own any animals. The sight was a bit worrying for the old wizard, but he continued on nonetheless.

The door swung open easily for him, without even a need for a spell—though he did cast a simple silencing charm to hide himself. Inside, the room was squalid and unseemly—though the floors and walls were surprisingly clean and nice, the furniture was all broken and in poor repair. The bed, if Dumbledore could even call it that, was sagging and bare save for a few sheets, and the bed's frame looked as though it could break at any minute.

Dumbledore paused, recollection of the many times Harry had stated that the Dursleys treated him terribly. He knew there was no lost love between Harry and his relatives, but surely he had expected more than a dingy bed and broken furniture. It made him wonder what else Harry had told him was true…what else that Arabella Figg hadn't noted and mentioned to him, that only dwelt within these walls.

For a moment, the supposed greatest wizard of all time shivered at the mere thought of it all.

Taking his mind off of the room itself, Dumbledore turned his attention to the young wizard that was laying on the dingy bed near the window. True to Mad-eye's word, Harry was laying fast asleep on the bed, his forehead pebbled with beads of sweat and his dark hair matted down against the bed's lone pillow. He'd grown in the month since school, but he also seemed a touch paler, and his sleep did not seem restful.

Dumbledore's blue eyes dimmed slightly as he stared down at Harry, and with a careful wave of his wand, a chair formed under him to sit in as he stared at the boy he'd been working to shape into the Chosen One. He'd done the planning, the analyzing, the sleepless nights pacing in frustration as he danced around what he'd hoped to be the perfect plan, the one true way to vanquish Voldemort once and for all. He'd done so much, knowing in his heart that it was the only way for them to win.

But as he sat and stared at Harry…he found himself uncertain.

Not in the prophecy, of course—that he was most certain of. And, even if he wasn't certain of the symbology and mystery of the prophecy, the fact that Voldemort believed in it was enough to make it true. No, Dumbledore found himself uncertain of his own choices in handling Harry.

Dumbledore had sent Harry to his relatives so that he would be safe from danger, but in turn he had placed him with the few people beyond Voldemort's inner circle who would treat him the worst. He had cut Harry off from much of his knowledge of the magical world and where he fit in it so he would not become proud and brash, but in turn he had made Harry someone who would leap into fights without understanding the ramifications, and could not truly defend himself against the law. He had ensured Harry would be loyal to him so that he'd be willing to die for him, but…

Dumbledore paused, staring back down at Harry.

He'd done all of this, all of this sacrifice heaped onto the back of a boy who was not yet even fifteen, with the sure knowledge that it was the only way to fully vanquish Voldemort once and for all, and yet even he couldn't lie to himself that this was the best option. Harry was here, alone and away from his friends, when other boys his age were having fun and laughing their cares away. It wasn't fair.

At that moment, Harry began to stir slightly on the bed. Dumbledore looked up in surprise, but Harry did not wake, instead rolling over and murmuring lowly. He caught a few words from the young man, and it made Dumbledore's heart sink.

"No…Cedric, please…run Cedric…don't let him…no…I'm sorry…it's my fault…" he heard Harry murmur, the boy's voice wrapping with soft sobs. Then, even worse, he heard him speak again, his voice even more sad and broken than before. "Mum?...no, please, Mum, stay…Mum, don't go…Dad, Mum, please…I can't…"

Dumbledore closed his eyes, feeling tears slowly glide down his cheeks as Harry continued to moan and cry, before he finally drifted off again, and fell into a slightly more restful state of sleep. Dumbledore stared a moment longer, before slowly standing up from the chair, which disappeared as he stood, and turned to walk back out of the bedroom once more. He let it slide closed behind him quietly, careful not to wake Harry, before turning and descending down the stairs.

He paid a bit more attention to the pictures that lined the walls of the Dursley home as he left, and every smiling, smarmy face he saw kindled the anger and sadness within his heart ever stronger, ever hotter. He was angry with himself for placing Harry here to begin with, angry with the Dursleys for how far they'd fallen from his already low expectations, and sad with this terrible, terrible situation that he and fate had pushed Harry into.

"The night of Harry's birthday," Dumbledore suddenly stated as he walked by where Moody was standing, once more hidden by the invisibility cloak, "we shall come to collect him and bring him to Headquarters. He is to spend the rest of the summer with his friends…and…perhaps it is time he comes to know his part to play in this game of war Voldemort has started up again."

Moody said nothing but a grunt in reply, and Dumbledore strode off down Privet Drive towards Arabella Figg's house without another word, his thoughts murkied and in need of a glass from the bottle of Ogden's finest that he kept in the bottom drawer of his desk.

* * *

Harry felt as if his body was about to collapse as he haphazardly dodged another of Tonks' flurry-cast spells, his own wand arm snapping out to toss a spell of his own at her. At the moment, he had very few spells that would truly be worth much use in a fight—perhaps his best was Expelliarmus, the disarming spell, but even that could be counteracted in some ways. And, compared to Tonks, he had far less experience with dueling.

As if to rest his case, Harry moved to dodge one of Tonks' spells once more before tripping on his own foot and falling over onto his back with a low grunt of exhaustion. Sighing, Harry pushed himself to sit up, only to find a long and slender wandtip pointed right at the space between his eyes. He followed the wandtip down to the hand that was holding it, along the arm, and up to the smirking face of Tonks staring down at him.

"And that's another win for me~" Tonks replied in a teasing lilt.

Harry groaned, letting his body drop back down onto the training room floor again. "Yeah, I know," he grumbled softly, pushing his glasses up to his forehead and running his hands over his eyes wearily. "To the surprise of literally no one, the highly-trained auror swept the floor with the not-even-yet-fifth-year Hogwarts student. Nicely done."

Tonks rolled her eyes at Harry's sarcastic response, twirling her wand a few times before sliding it back into her holster. "Oh, cheer up, Hero-boy! This is the auror corps' training regiment for all of their trainees, and frankly you've been doing pretty well so far. Considering you're three years younger than most of the trainees that go through the regiment you're going through, you're doing an incredible job."

Harry rolled his head to the side to give Tonks a flat, disbelieving stare. "No, really, you are!" Tonks emphatically stated again. "Barely anyone can get through the obstacle course on their first day in under ten minutes, and you managed to get through it at just barely nine. And most initiates drop from sparring and dueling after three rounds, and it took me five to finally get you to drop here. You're doing a great job for your first day, Harry!"

In spite of his exhaustion, Harry allowed a tired smile to slip onto his face, and he slowly pushed himself back up into a sitting position. "Well, if you say so, Nym…though, I really don't feel much like I've been doing a great job, if you ask me…"

Tonks snorted out a laugh and took Harry's hand in hers. "That's just the exhaustion talking—it speaks pretty loudly, but try to ignore it for now—come on, up you go!"

With a small grunt of effort, Tonks pulled Harry up to his feet, the young man swaying slightly where he stood before wrapping an arm around Tonks' back for support. Tonks smiled back at him, before turning the both of them around and leading them out of the training room, Harry's shambling pace making the trek just to the door a bit longer than it should've been.

Outside, Dobby was waiting with a tea tray in hand, with two warm cups of something aromatic waiting for the both of them. "Dobby thought the Great Master Harry Potter and his Tonksie would like some tea after their training," Dobby announced.

"Thank you, Dobby," Harry replied, taking a cup in one hand as Tonks carefully set him down on the bed. "You really are a wonderful friend, you know that?"

Dobby's ears turned a bit pink, and he dropped the tea tray just as Tonks took a hold of her cup to wrap his thin arms around himself and shake slowly side to side from overflowing emotions. "Oh, the Great Master Harry Potter is too kind! Dobby is more than glad to be a friend to the Great Master Harry Potter, for Harry Potter is both a great wizard and a good man!"

With that, Dobby and the tea tray disappeared with a sudden pop, leaving Tonks and Harry alone in the attic bedroom once more. Tonks shook her head at where the slightly insane house elf had once been standing, before moving over to sit beside Harry, and shooting him a smirk. "You know, if he keeps calling you that, I might just have to pick it up myself. Would you like that, oh Great Master Harry Potter~?"

Harry shivered—somehow, the way Tonks said that title had a far different feel to it than whenever Dobby said it, and he found himself briefly envisioning having Tonks call him that in a far different, far more personal setting. His cheeks turned pink at the thought, and hurriedly he raised his cup to his lips to try and hide it. At Tonks' laughter, though, Harry just scowled over at her in mock frustration. "Damn you Tonks…"

"Oh, come on, Harry, don't deny that you wouldn't like it!" the young witch teased, her eyes shining with mirth.

Harry shrugged, choosing not to say anything, and instead kept his attention on the tea Dobby had offered them. It seemed to be more than just tea, as he felt his whole body starting to relax, the exhaustion and tension from the day of training slowly easing off of him and down through his body and out his feet. Sighing, Harry leaned back to lay down on his bed, staring at the ceiling blankly.

"So…that was the Mad-eye Method?" he asked slowly, tapping his cup in thought.

Tonks nodded, taking a sip of her drink as well. "Yes it was…and it's only going to get more intense from here as well, just a warning…"

Harry sighed and nodded, letting his eyes slowly drift shut, his exhaustion coming back for just a moment as he thought ahead to the very long two months still ahead for the both of them.


End file.
